


This year

by azyxy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2020, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, Getting Together, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Rimming, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 36,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azyxy/pseuds/azyxy
Summary: Harry is self-aware enough to know that he acts first and thinks second. Could Draco Malfoy be his next bad decision?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 98
Kudos: 319
Collections: 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Having spent the last few years following this fest, I'm excited to join in this time! The first few chapters are finished, but I'll be writing as we go. I'll add more tags as the story develops!

**PROMPT: Tower Bridge**

Every part of Harry’s body was tense as he attempted to hold a perfectly aerodynamic position, legs tucked underneath him, nose almost flat against the handle of his auror issue broom. He kept his eyes trained on the shadowy figure ahead of him, his singular focus to get close enough to stick an instant portkey on them.

He glanced down at the Thames below him, inky and ominous in the December evening. Even he wasn’t going to attempt an incarcerous on an assailant in the middle of a high-speed chase. His hands were frozen anyway, he’d probably drop his wand.

He hadn’t expected a speculative search of a warehouse in Dartford to result in anything more than a dead end, but they’d got lucky. What was intended to be a routine magiforensic scan for traces of illegal potions ingredients had instead revealed a busy operation far beyond anything the brief had prepared them for.

Most of the people in the cavernous packing room had apparated instantly, but one grabbed a nearby broom and shot through the open door, their hooded robe whipping Harry’s cheek as they jettisoned past. He’d leapt into action, unshrinking his own broom from his auror pack and kicking off. He’d barely had time to activate his personal tracking charm, let alone summon his gloves. Well, he thought bitterly, fingers aching, it’s not like his superiors gave two shits about his frozen hands as they watched a small dot labelled Auror Potter track across the charmed map from the comfort of the briefing room.

Harry gritted his teeth. They were getting closer to central London now and he really didn’t want to risk a wand fight over such a populated area. He doubted Magical Accidents and Catastrophes could claim late Diwali celebrations - even Bonfire Night had been weeks ago.

Tower Bridge was looming ahead of him, its late-Victorian iron suspension cables lit up for the Christmas season. He could see his opponent clearly now, Harry was inching closer as they started to tire.

It was moments like this Harry was glad he hit the gym most mornings. His own thighs were screaming in protest but evidently the pursuit was taking it out of the figure ahead of him more quickly. Just a bit further, then he could clock off and head home. He carefully uncurled a frozen hand from the handle of his broom and reached for the portkey - standard issue for situations where anti-apparation wards weren’t possible or practical.

He was trying to decide whether to risk throwing the portkey or not when he felt a hot glow against the inside of his trouser pocket. A communication coin. The concept had stuck since DA and he’d got Hermione to make him a few more so that he could keep in touch with his closest friends and family. Ron and Hermione had some, Andromeda, Teddy, and recently, Stefano. He didn’t usually give them to boyfriends, but he’d pressed one into Stefano’s hand before they last said goodbye in Milan.

“Fuck!” Harry swore out loud as he remembered, his voice vanishing instantly into the icy wind. He was supposed to be meeting Stefano for dinner. Motherfucker. Stefano was not going to be happy. All for a stupid criminal who’d decided on a dramatic escape rather than just apparating like everyone else. If only they’d apparated Harry would have been home and changed an hour ago. Instead he was late, again.

Harry prepared to throw the portkey not wanting to waste another moment. He was already working over time and now this. Stefano was no doubt going to hit him with passive aggressive stinging hexes all evening.

Channeling every pickup Quidditch game he’d ever played, Harry took aim and threw. He watched it sail through the air, heading straight for the centre of the figure’s back. He breathed a sigh of relief, before choking in surprise as the portkey bounced off an invisible shield and hurtled down towards the river below. Harry felt his stomach drop as his only hope of safely securing the fugitive sunk into the choppy depths. As if sensing Harry’s failure, the figure turned sharply towards the bank. Harry tried to match the maneuver but he was too slow, not having anticipated the turn. He watched the figure land and immediately disapparate. Well this was just great.

They must have had a shield charm woven into their cloak. There was no way anyone could have kept a wandless potego going for that long. It was uncommon but not improbable., his own uniform had the same protections after all. How could he have overlooked it?

Perhaps if Stefano hadn’t messaged he would have thought about it. He sighed again. That wasn’t fair.

He’d thrown the portkey in frustration. Frustration at another late night, another missed date, and yet another occasion where his superiors had sent him out into the night while they stayed in the oak-panelled briefing room with their self-replenishing cauldron cakes.

He’d joined the force with so much enthusiasm after Hogwarts, but he soon realised that the old guard just got older as it overlooked anyone under the age of fifty for promotion. Too famous to leave his house without having a camera stuck in his face but too young to make decisions, apparently. What a life.

He landed on a deserted street in Limehouse and shrunk down his broom before vanishing his Auror robes in a temper. He went to run his fingers through his hair but they got stuck almost instantly. He couldn’t see himself, but he assumed it was a disaster. Stefano really was going to kill him. He was already over an hour late, and he doubted that dragonhide combat boots, Auror issue trousers and a sweaty black t-shirt was going to be the appropriate dress code for wherever Stefano had booked.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and apparated to the street Stefano had arranged to meet him on.

Of course there was no one in sight. He hadn’t really expected Stefano to be waiting outside. He pulled out his coin to ask Stefano where to head to, but there was already a message waiting for him.

_That was your last chance._

“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed into the night. This time it got a reaction, an elderly witch looked at him disapprovingly. He threw the coin to the ground and apparated home. He needed a beer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll work out how to embed the photo prompts soon!

**PROPMT: RED BIRD**

The next morning Harry found himself on Diagon Alley with a scowled firmly fixed in place. Going out in wizarding London without a glamour was generally an experience Harry preferred to avoid. While it had been a while since anyone had come up and cried on him, _thankfully_ , he often found that people struck up a conversation with him simply because they recognised him. He enjoyed watching their expression shift to mortifying embarrassment when they realised that he was not, in fact, a family member they usually only saw at Beltane but couldn’t quite place. It didn’t bother him, not like the hordes of wellwishers did soon after the final battle, but it did make going about his day fairly inconvenient. After last night he could really have done without ‘inconvenient’.

He’d evidently made the wrong decision by sending a patronus instead of making an appearance at the office. Although to him that was just about fair enough after he’d experienced the wizarding equivalent of being dumped by text. The Ministry owl that had woken him up incredibly early had instructed him to head straight to visit London’s major potions resellers to check a list of rare ingredients that the cleanup team had collected from the warehouse.

Everyone in the department knew how much of a hassle it was to have him in Diagon Alley for work and so Harry suspected the task had been set intentionally.

He kicked a small pebble in frustration as he crossed to the other side of the street to avoid a group of elderly witches. He bet it was Robards who’d decided to send him. He and Harry had clashed over the issue of patronus messages before. Robards was one of the older generation who preferred Aurors to floo in with in-person status updates. Harry argued that finding a floo connection in the field was next to impossible, which meant apparating somewhere then finding a fireplace, or using the Ministry's public entrance - all where a patronus was much faster. Robards had argued that patronuses were an interruption, and Harry had not been particularly diplomatic when he’d suggested that hadn’t recently seen anyone based full time at Headquarters doing anything particularly worthy of remaining uninterrupted. Robarts had not taken kindly to this observation and Harry had found himself on desk duty for a week.

This was not what he needed this morning. He’d tried calling Stefano when he got home to no answer, and the note he’d sent afterwards had been returned unopened. He supposed he deserved nothing less, but it still stung. They’d been dating long distance since the summer, and although it hadn’t been particularly intense, Harry found himself sad at the prospect of not spending time with him again. They’d been pretty compatible in the bedroom too, professional quidditch left Stefano with more than enough upper body strength to bend Harry into the perfect position.

Harry grinned at the memory of a particularly energetic afternoon in the kitchen, but the feeling quickly faded into frustration. It was damn difficult finding a good shag when half the people interested in you had a preconceived idea of what the sex would be like, and the other half were women.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the first shop, schooling his features into something that didn’t scream ‘I fucking hate my job’ before announcing himself. “Auror Potter, may I have a moment of your time please?”

\---

It was late afternoon when he finished with the apothecaries. He was cold, and because it was next to impossible to get even a takeaway coffee without being accosted, he was hungry. On top of that, it wasn’t yet close enough to the end of the working day that he could realistically get away with going straight home.

He hadn’t had much luck so far. None of the apothecaries he’d visited had even stocked the ingredients that had been uncovered, instead referring him to magical wholesalers.

His feet were carrying him in the direction of the apparition point even though he knew he’d get a bollocking on Monday if he went home now. Just before he arrived he looked up and realised he was outside Luna’s shop. She’d opened _Where To Find Magical Beasts_ soon after she returned from her travels and she housed creatures both visible and, as Harry diplomatically referred to them, _otherworldly_. It was as close as he could get to entertaining her eccentricity without calling her out. He’d had enough arguments about nargles to last him a lifetime, and now he just hoped that a slightly glazed expression wasn’t too much a giveaway of how he really felt.

A stroke of inspiration had him stepping inside, perhaps Luna would recognise some of the biological samples? It was exactly this kind of idea that he doubted anyone at headquarters would have considered. They tended to follow the numbers. “Almost all potions dens are linked to an apothecary who wanted a bit of extra cash.” Robards had said to him many many times before. Then he’d just laugh when Harry always replied “Almost”. Well, he’d show them, Harry thought.

Harry spotted Luna behind the counter, a small mammalian creature with lime green fur balanced on her shoulder.

“Hi Luna.”

“Harry! How are you? What brings you here?”

“I’m here for work actually.” he answered, skimming over the question of how he was feeling. “I wondered if you could help?”

“Of course, of course!” Luna rushed over. Perhaps business was slow today. No demand for pets that didn’t exist he thought, a little unkindly.

“I’ve got some samples and I wondered if you could help me identify whether they came from any magical beasts you’ve come across?” He emptied his sample box on her counter and took a seat on the stool next to the till while she looked through them. She started picking them up and examining them, and Harry resolutely ignored the voice in his head that he shouldn’t really be letting her touch them. The samples were already protected from new fingerprints or magical signatures anyway, and he didn’t expect anyone at magiforensics was particularly going to care.

He was fixed in a staring contest with a chameleon when Luna exclaimed. “Oh I know this one. This is a feather from a specific type of red bird of paradise. I forget the name but I can look it up for you. Their feathers are not at all common in Europe, they don’t travel well.”

Harry picked up the feather. It looked like a normal red feather to him. Oh well. He wrote down the tip in his notebook and turned back to Luna.

“Do you recognise anything else?”

“Sorry Harry, just the feather. The rest is difficult to make out given it’s mostly been crushed.”

Harry sighed heavily. “Thank you anyway, this was really useful.” He didn’t particularly think his facial expression matched his words but he was tired, hungry and pissed off, and he found that he didn’t really care. Luna and he had been through enough together, she’d get over it.

“It’s no problem at all Harry.” she said brightly, completely oblivious to his mood. “How are you though, Harry? You don’t seem yourself?”

Perhaps not so oblivious. He sighed again. “Yeh I’m fine. Just tired. Oh and Stefano dumped me last night which has made today just extra special for me.”

“Oh no what a shame!”

“Yeh, well. It is what it is.” He wasn’t particularly in the mood to go into any details. It was probably early enough to head home now.

He was packing up the samples when Luna looked at him airily. “I never really thought your auras were particularly well matched, you know. So perhaps it’s no bad thing.”

Whether it was the stress of the last two days or the lack of sleep, on hearing these words something inside him snapped. “Oh come on Luna, this happened yesterday! Can you give me a few days before you start this shit?” He’d always struggled to keep a hold on his temper and he didn’t think he could be blamed today.

She looked surprised. “I only meant that-”

He cut her off. “Yeh? Well you're wrong Luna. I liked him. And you don't get to get away with your pseudoscience. Tell me what your nargles think another time, I can't deal with this today.” He shot a shrinking charm and the sample box with a little too much power and it completely disappeared. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking. Fuck this day.

When he looked back Luna’s expression was sad. She looked hurt. Merlin he was such a dickhead.

"I'm sorry Luna. That was uncalled for. Just, I did like him so could you hold off for now please?"

He looked down at his shoes. Thirty two and he still couldn't control his temper. He knew Luna didn't mean anything by her comment. But even though he'd known her for nearly fifteen years now, it still got on his nerves the way she masked blunt comments with mystical pronouncements.

Of course he valued her friendship, and there were times where her whimsical sense of humour was refreshing, but the day after your friend has been dumped? Well, today he didn't think she deserved the leniency. He'd only apologised because he knew he was in a foul mood and had certainly been more heavy handed with his words than perhaps he'd intended. But he wouldn't take it back.

Stefano was still fresh in his mind, the sound of his laugh, the taste of clean skin. He didn't need a good friend trashing that. He was sure the prophet would do that job well enough. He didn't think he'd ever dated anyone they hadn't at first idolised as the man Harry was 'finally going to settle down with', but when they inevitably broke up, the Prophet was first with the sensationalist headlines. He wondered if there was anyone queer even working at that paper, they seemed to have no idea how most gay men lived in their twenties and thirties.

Luna looked at him thoughtfully. "Maybe you should head home and run a bath Harry. I can give you a bundle of herbs which are _proven_ to be relaxing." He didn't miss the passive aggressive emphasis she put on the word proven, but he chose not to engage.

"Thank you Luna, that would be really kind."

Friday night and he was heading home for a bath. This wasn't how he thought this weekend would go.


	3. Chapter 3

**PROMPT: PULLING A CHRISTMAS CRACKER**

Harry was already running late by the time he arrived at the Granger-Weasley household. He didn't even have an excuse. He'd spent all day wandering aimlessly around his house, throwing half hearted cleaning spells at rooms he'd neglected over the past few months. The only productive thing he’d done was write a long apology letter to Luna for his outburst the day before.

He'd hoped that cleaning Grimmauld Place would be cathartic, but all he really achieved was feelings of intense melancholy as he re-lived some of the more enthusiastic moments of his now broken relationship. That melancholy was only punctuated by moments of anger at the fact that the whole reason he was cleaning his abandoned house was because he spent so much time at a job he despised.

Yes, despised was the right word. The swirling sense of frustration and injustice that he carried with him Monday to Friday, and often weekends too, had crystallised over the course of the day into a righteous anger. Anger at his complete lack of work life balance, and the material consequences of that lack of balance in the ashes of another failed relationship. Anger at his superiors and their inability to recognise potential, let alone quality ideas to move the force forward in their post-war era. And anger at himself, for allowing himself to get so caught up in going through the motions of his life without taking control of a situation that was clearly making him unhappy.

He'd always struggled with taking control. Hermione argued that this was understandable given his childhood experiences, but it didn't stop the tendrils of shame twisting their way through his belly when he thought about the years and years where he'd found himself blindly following a new leader down a career path which didn't make him happy.

All in all, he didn’t think he’d be the best dinner party guest. But he’d dragged himself into the shower anyway, determined to put on a brave face. His school friends had been getting together for a Christmas meal every year since the war and he wasn't about to cancel on them now.

"Harry!" He heard Hermione's voice the moment he stepped out of the floo into the Granger-Weasley kitchen. "Everyone! Harry's here!" he heard a cheer go up in the next room and someone drumming on a table, probably Seamus. He couldn't help the grin that pulled as his mouth as he walked into the dining room. Everyone else was already seated.

He slid into an empty seat laughing and quickly grabbed the beer that Ron had sent floating towards him. He snapped his fingers to pop the cap and took a sip.

"Oh get you, show off." teased Seamus. "Want to teach the class?" he asked, clicking his fingers at a whole case of beer to no effect.

Harry chuckled. It was so easy to fall back into their teenage days when they were all together. Well, their earlier, happier teenage days perhaps. It was all stupid jokes and laughter like they were still in dorms. Their meetups had quietened down slightly when Neville had finally got together with Hannah, but she was outnumbered in their circle of Gryffindors.

"Where’s your man anyway Harry? I thought he was coming? I have a bone to pick with him after Italy’s performance last week." Seamus asked.

Harry’s momentary good mood dropped. "Oh right, yes. He’s not coming. We broke up." He turned to Hermione who had just come in from the kitchen and was now looking at him with poorly masked sympathy. "Sorry I forgot to mention." He turned back to the table. "More food for everyone else though?" he offered into the silence of the room.

Ron was the first to respond with an arm around the shoulder, pulling Harry’s body roughly towards his. "Tough luck mate."

Seamus sent about eight beers zooming in his direction. "Drown your sorrows Harry!"

Dean pushed at Seamus’s shoulder. "Stop it, love. Give the man a break." He turned towards Harry. "Sorry to hear that. Give me and Seamus a call when you’re ready to hit the town yeh? We’ll all go out."

"Thanks Dean." Harry replied. Dean had always been the calmer of the two, and since he and Seamus had gone exclusive a couple of years back Harry had noticed that even Seamus was comfortable with a quiet night in nowadays, so it was nice they were offering.

"Yeh sorry to hear that Harry. I liked Stefano. He always had something interesting to say." Neville added. "I’ve got a new crop of gillyweed if you needed it." he added knowingly. Their eyes met and Harry nodded.

"Thanks." Neville was familiar with Harry’s struggles with sleep ever since Harry had approached him a few years back asking about medicinal remedies. It was all above board, but Neville had become his de facto supplier. Harry grinned at the fact that he’d simultaneously been offered a filthy night out, and the wizarding equivalent of herbal soothers.

Harry jumped as Ron slammed an absolutely enormous bottle of some sort of alcohol onto the table. "Distilled by giants!" he announced, almost proudly. "Charlie picked it up for me from Romania."

"Merlin’s pants mate, it’s bigger than my arm!" Seamus shouted to the room, elbow balanced on the table, his forearm running alongside in comparison. "It might even be bigger than Neville’s knob!" Neville resolutely ignored him, but Harry spotted Hannah’s blush.

"Get the shot glasses Hermione!" Ron called.

\---

An indeterminate number of hours later, he really couldn’t be sure, Harry was sprawled on the sofa next to Ron trying very hard to focus the conversation happening in front of him.

He was watching Dean's lips move, trying to work out if he’d somehow found a way to throw his voice, or whether Harry was so drunk that somehow light waves and sound waves had become confused in his mind. He was about to ask Hermione whether it was possible when he realised firstly, that she wasn’t there, and secondly, that something small and papery had hit him in the face.

"Christmas crackers!" Neville was shouting. Neville hadn’t joined them in trying Ron’s mystery alcohol, which even in his current state Harry recognised had been a wise choice.

Ron thrust a cracker into his face and Harry closed one eye to ensure he managed to grab hold of the other end as the room spun around them. There was a loud bang followed by a cloud of glitter and Harry found himself wearing a party hat and holding a pair of furry handcuffs.

Dean was holding a shocking pink dildo looking blankly at Seamus, a matching pink beret balanced precariously on his head. Meanwhile Seamus looked like he was having trouble breathing, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"Saw these at _Willows and Wands_ lads and couldn’t resist!"

Harry was about to correct him on his gendered collective noun when he realised Hermione and Hannah weren’t in the room. When had they left?

"Oh Auror Potter, I think I’ve been a bad boy." Seamus had grabbed the handcuffs from Harry and was dangling them in front of Harry’s face from his pinky finger.

It was as if someone had hit him with a sobering charm. Even though it was Saturday night and he was drunk with his friends, Harry felt that telltale swoop of dread at the idea of going to work on Monday.

Harry batted the handcuffs out of his face, or tried to at least. For some reason his hand didn’t do exactly what he wanted it to do and he ended up sort of stroking the handcuffs instead. "Ergh no thanks Seamus. I don’t want to think of work on a Saturday."

Suddenly he was gripped by that feeling of righteous anger from earlier in the day. It swept up around him. "In fact, I don’t want to think about work ever again!" he announced to the room, in his moment of drunken enlightenment. "No more Auror Potter for _hic_ , for any of you!" he shouted, pointing at them all.

Seamus was cheering and chanting. "No more Auror Potter! No more Auror Potter!" banging the cushions in time with his tune.

Harry found himself standing on the sofa, joining in. "No more Auror Potter! No more Auror Potter!"

Ron was laughing, Neville was laughing, Dean was attempting to hover five shot glasses while struggling to pour a bottle of what looked like port, and Harry, in a moment of lucidity, thought about how grateful he was that they were all alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**PROMPT: CHOCOLATE SWISS ROLL**

Harry awoke feeling like someone had hit him with a bombarda from point black. Everything ached, especially his brain. He blindly groped for his wand, and eventually found it on the floor next to, for some reason, one shoe and a luminous pink beret that hurt his eyes to look at. As he struggled to piece together the preceding evening, he suddenly remembered something terrible. _He had plans today_.

He cast a tempus revealing that, not only did he have plans today, he had plans in less than eighteen minutes - and that those plans involved at least two small children and one teenager arriving at his house.

Internally cursing Ron and or Seamus and or Dean for his current predicament, he gingerly got out of bed and unsteadily made his way to his en suite.

Standing with his forehead against the cool tiles as the uncomfortably hot water did its job did nothing for his mood. There had been no hangover potion in his bathroom and he didn't think he'd be able to navigate the stairs more than once. He didn't even attempt to use any of the magical taps. He was not in the mood for bubbles.

He wandlessly cut the water and waved his hand again for a drying charm before summoning a child appropriate outfit. He conjured some sunglasses and descended the stairs steadily, bare feet leaving humid footprints on the wooden floors.

He was systematically sorting through the kitchen cupboards in an increasingly desperate search for a hangover potion when he was assaulted with a loud 'Uncle Harry!' as tiny arms wrapped themselves around his legs.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?" Rose enquired loudly, and Harry barely managed not to wince.

He heard the singsong voice of Hermione enter the room. "Sometimes grownups do silly things like wearing sunglasses inside when they're feeling funny, don't they Uncle Harry?"

Harry glared at her before remembering that he was, of course, wearing sunglasses.

"Good thing we bought him some special Christmas juice isn't it Rose? He might not feel so funny afterwards."

Hermione pressed a cool bottle in his hand with a knowing look. "Teaching Rose about hangover potions already, Hermione? She's only six." he whispered.

"Of course not. She thinks it's some of the pumpkin juice we had at breakfast.”

“Thanks.” he said. “When did you leave last night anyway? I don’t remember you going?"

“Oh Hannah and I decided to leave you to it after Seamus challenged everyone to a centurion of after dinner liqueurs. I think he was trying to cast a gemini on the shot glasses?”

“Oh Merlin I remember that. Just one of the many reasons why I feel so terrible today.”

Hermione was laughing as she began unpacking some of Hugo’s toys. “Just drink the potion Harry.”

He downed the whole bottle in one go, removed his sunglasses and then chased after Rose as she ran into the living room. His stomach lurched horribly, the potion not quite having kicked in, but by the time he'd scooped her up and swung her in a big circle around his spacious living room he was feeling marginally better.

"Harry do me! Do me!" cried Hugo and he came careering over to him, still dusted with ash from the floo.

“If Rose gets to fly, does that mean I can finally have a go on your Auror broom?” another voice joined in. Teddy. He must have just arrived.

He glanced at the permanent tempus he'd had installed in the hallway and saw that it was only four minutes past eleven. Today was going to be a long day.

\---

Five hours later, after three rounds of living room gymnastics, one film, two tantrums (both Hugo), and more requests to try his Auror broom than he thought it possible for a fourteen year-old to make, Ron, Hermione, Rose, Teddy, Hugo, and Harry were all seated around Harry's large oak kitchen table eating swiss roll with hot chocolate. The Weasley-‘Potter’ Christmas get together was now an established Christmas tradition, and Harry was quietly relieved that Teddy still wanted to come. He and Harry normally had their own Christmas day out too, but Harry was happy to see that Teddy still had time for Rose and Hugo - they both certainly looked up to him like a big brother, following him everywhere, Rose peppering him with questions.

"Why is swirly cake Christmassy mummy?" Rose was asking a tired looking Hermione. She hadn’t been drinking the night before, but she did look like she was running on limited sleep.

"I don't know how you do this full time." Harry whispered to Ron while massaging his temples.

Ron winced in sympathy. "Admittedly they only get this hyped in the build up to Christmas, it's infectious." He conjured more water into Harry's plastic cup. "Still feeling last night?"

"Not really, I'm more tired than anything. I haven't been sleeping well since-" Harry paused. Thinking about it now he honestly couldn't remember the last time he hadn't got home late and then woken much too soon to the familiar sense of dread at the idea of putting on his uniform. “Not since ages." he concluded.

Ron looked at him quizzically. It was the kind of look that came with knowing someone for a very long time. "You're really not happy with your job at the moment are you?"

“What gave it away?” Harry asked wryly.

“Well I know we were all completely smashed last night but you seemed fairly committed to the ‘No more Auror Potter’ chant.”

“Oh Merlin I’d forgotten about that!” Harry groaned. “How do you remember that? In fact, how are you okay?”

“Two small kids mate, you gotta be prepared. Mum was dropping them back early so I took three sobering potions last night, and paracetamol.” Harry nodded.

"The thing is-" Harry began. "I'm beginning to think I haven't ever been. Happy with my job, that is. I think I haven't really thought about it much, or allowed myself to think about it maybe. But-" he swallowed, "Now I think about it more, I don't know how much more I can take."

Ron wrapped an arm around him. "Well, why not think about it this Christmas, you know, as things get quieter? Take some time to think about everything and plan it out."

Harry let out a breath. On some level he’d always known that Ron would understand, but he was relieved to hear it. Ron had always been his biggest supporter in the force, even after he’d quit to work with George. He’d often act as a sounding board for Harry’s ideas, and a friendly ear who understood Harry's situation when something frustrating had happened. He was a strategic thinker both inside and outside of work, something Harry had yet to master. Harry was truly lucky to count him among his friends.

Harry jolted in surprise as he found himself suddenly with a lapful of child. "Rose joins cuddle too?" She shouted.

All Harry could do was nod.


	5. Chapter 5

**PROMPT: RED CHRISTMAS JUMPER**

Harry awoke feeling well rested for the first time in a long time. The dull winter sunlight crept through the gaps in the heavy curtains draped over the bay windows opposite his bed. He opened them wandlessly and took a moment to enjoy the view of Grimmauld’s large garden.

The wizarding space was packed with plants and trees, giving Harry the sense of space that, given his childhood, he truly appreciated. He didn’t use it as much he imagined when he first started the renovation project shortly after the war, but with Neville’s help it was always pretty to look at, even if he only admired it from inside.

He reached for his wand to cancel his alarm spell, but he found it unset. Icy dread swooped through his veins, much like his very first encounter with ghosts nearly twenty years before.

He hadn’t set an alarm.

It was light outside.

He hadn’t set an alarm, it was light outside, and it was December.

He hated December more than any other month because it meant he had to leave for work in the dark. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, but as it all clicked into place he leapt out of bed faster than he thought was possible.

He was late.

He was really fucking late.

“Fuck!” he shouted into his bedroom.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He summoned the outfit he’d been wearing yesterday as he threw a haphazard cleaning charm over himself. He pulled on the faded ripped jeans and a red Christmas jumper.

A hastily cast tempus revealed that it was already twenty seven minutes past nine. He had three minutes to get to the morning briefing. If he could floo directly to the locker room instead of via the Atrium, then he could quickly grab his uniform, and he might just make it in time. He toed on some shoes and raced down the stairs, swiping a handful of floo powder from the bowl on his mantleplace only moments before stepping confidently into the flames. 

Seconds later he was tumbling out into the changing room. He didn’t even stop to wipe the soot from his eyes and instead raced across the deserted space towards his locker. His magic seemed to know he was late because the tempus he’d cast at Grimmauld Place had held and was currently floating alongside him.

He deactivated the wards on his locker and reached for his Auror robes, only for his hand to meet thin air. What the-?

Whenever he took off his robes they were automatically sent to the Ministry for cleaning and pressing, ready for his next shift. It worked from anywhere. Wherever he put them, they were always in his locker the next day. He’d even tested the theory once and scattered every item across his house. You just had to remember to empty your pockets first, he’d lost more than enough quills over the years. The only reason they wouldn’t be here was if they’d been damaged beyond repair, or-

Or if he’d vanished them rushing to meet his now ex on Thursday night.

Harry’s forehead hit the locker next to his and stayed there. He was fucked.

He was sooty, he wasn’t wearing his uniform, he’d failed to apprehend a dangerous criminal the week preceding, he’d failed to show up in person for the debrief, he’d clocked off early after a fruitless day collecting evidence on Friday, and to top it all off, he was currently one hour and four minutes late.

He took a deep breath through his nose, cast another cleaning charm for good measure, and walked calmly out of the changing room towards the briefing room. There was really nothing else that he could do.

The meeting was in full flow as he arrived. Robards was standing at the lectern, his own uniform straining against a body that hadn’t seen active duty for at least eight years. Harry crept towards a chair at the back, praying that the Head Auror was suitably distracted by the sound of his own voice. He was just about to slide into a seat when the monologue paused for a moment. The calm before the storm.

“AUROR POTTER!” Robards bellowed, and more than sixty eyes swivelled in his direction. He felt like he was almost lifted by the force of the shout.

The man seemed not to know where to start as his eyes flitted between his outfit, and the tempus on the wall. Against the sea of his perfectly attired colleagues the garish red and childlike reindeer print really did stand out.

“Yes sir.”

Harry personally thought that his voice sounded respectful, but Robards turned, if possible, even more red. Harry was reminded unpleasantly of Uncle Vernon.

“DESK DUTY. FOR THE NEXT MONTH.” He seemed incapable of stringing together a full sentence.

Harry knew the man despised him, but loathe to think the Aurors had a proper HR procedure where any grievances, such as an employee not wearing the correct uniform, could be dealt with in a productive and private way.

In fact, Harry was sick of it. He was sick of his superiors preaching about progress when the whole department was about as progressive as wizarding fashion. He was sick of his ideas being ignored. He was sick of Robards' seemingly personal vendetta against him, no doubt fueled by the man’s own insecurity. Harry had a good solve rate, he worked hard - why did coming to work have to be so difficult? Hadn’t he had enough of difficult?

The word “No.” was out of his mouth before his brain had time to catch up.

“WHAT?” Robards shouted back.

“Just no.” Harry continued. He’d started now, so why not finish it? Ron had said he should think about his career over Christmas anyway, and chances are he’d have decided to leave, wouldn’t he? I mean, he hated it?

“I’m not doing desk duty for the next month. And you know why?” he didn’t wait for a reply, although Robarts looked so angry that Harry doubted he could even speak. “Because I quit. I’m done. In fact, I’m going now.”

He turned to look at the room, shock written across every single one of his colleagues’ faces. “Bye everyone.” And with that, he summoned every ounce of his magic, and apparated through the ministry’s supposedly unbreakable wards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that Draco arrives next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**PROMPT: ICE SCULPTURE OF A DRAGON**

_Why are work Christmas parties always on random days of the week?_ Harry thought to himself as weaved towards the bar at the annual Ministry Christmas gala.

He had, of course, not wanted to come, but Kingsley had personally requested his presence. Harry had agreed, knowing full well that ‘his presence’ was likely to help lobby persuadable members of the more conservative opposition group on some piece of legislation or other. He generally indulged Kingsley when he made these requests, mainly because Harry thought that Kingsley was a good bloke doing a thankless job, but also because Hermione regularly asked him to use his strong personal relationship with the Minister to gain insight into upcoming policy.

He really should work towards getting them in the same room more often, Harry mused, then he could cut out this ludicrous middle man work and avoid any more evenings like this. While Hermione was moving fast through the ranks at the recently renamed Department for Magical Beings, her job rarely put her in the same room as Kingsley.

He was attempting to signal for a drink when he noticed a flash of blonde to his left, right before an over-enunciated “ _Potter_ ” dragged him straight back to his Hogwarts days.

He turned, and sure enough, next to him at the bar was Draco Malfoy. Of course Harry had bumped into him a handful of times as an adult, it was hard not to bump into people he knew in the miniscule wizarding world, but the last Harry had heard was that Malfoy had moved to France.

Malfoy evidently interpreted his silence as his cue to continue talking. "I'm surprised to see you here. I seem to recall reading that you had-" he paused, "-decided to pursue alternative employment?"

Harry scoffed. "That's one way of putting it."

Of course, quitting in front of the whole department had meant every detail had been slapped across the front page of The Prophet before dinner. He’d even had to strengthen the wards on his house after he was concerned that the sheer quantity of owls that were arriving would somehow negate his existing protections. It hadn’t been this bad since he’d been papped kissing a distinctly male companion a couple of years out of Hogwarts.

Despite the fact that he hadn't seen Malfoy in years, Harry found himself feeling refreshed by his gloves off approach.

"I'm pretty sure I'm here in my usual capacity of being Kingsley's bitch. Whether I happened to be employed here I suspect is irrelevant when the Minister wants something."

"Astute Potter. I'm surprised." Malfoy took a sip of what was either water or straight vodka. "I'm assuming that comment was off the record?" He smirked.

Harry shrugged. "After the week I've had, I'm not sure how much I really care. I mean how much worse can it get? The Prophet writes shit about me all the time anyway." Harry took a large sip of the whisky that had finally appeared in front of him.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Is there not anyone else you can share your sob story with? Not that I'm in a rush, I just hardly think I'm a suitable candidate."

Harry looked him up and down, grinning slightly when he noticed a faint blush appear high on Malfoy’s cheeks. Interesting. “You’ll do. Unless you plan on ratting me out to The Prophet again? I could really do without that.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “That was practically ancient history Potter. I haven’t even lived here for years.”

“What are you doing here then?” Harry asked. “I mean, If you don’t even live in the UK then I’m pretty sure you don’t work here.”

Malfoy clinked his glass against Harry’s. “That makes two of us.”

It was surreal how normal it felt picking up a conversation with Malfoy after all these years. He didn’t really know why. He expected to feel frustrated by their line of conversation, but he found that he simply wasn’t. They stood there in companionable silence for a moment, each sipping their drinks and observing the room.

The canevnous ballroom was tastefully decorated. Thousands of suspended sparkling snowflakes drifted gently, and no-drip icicles adorned the floating podium tables dotted around the room. A gap in the crowd drew Harry’s eyes to an ice sculpture, a dragon, wings outstretched, it’s majestic swoop literally frozen.

“Did you sponsor this thing Malfoy!?” Harry exclaimed, breaking the silence.

Malfoy turned to look at him, a confused look on his face. “What?”

“Did you sponsor this event?” Harry repeated. He pointed at the dragon and Draco followed the line of his finger. “That monstrosity seems like your style.”

Draco chuckled. “No Potter. I didn’t not sponsor this event.” He paused. “Firstly, if I had, the evening wouldn’t be as sterile as this. And secondly, what on earth could I have to gain from sponsoring an event like this? I’m a professional quidditch player. What would I try and lobby for? I thought Aurors were supposed to be smart?”

“Not an Auror anymore.” Harry retorted.

Malfoy pointed to a woman Harry vaguely recognised from events like these. “She’s the owner of the Falmouth Falcons. I’ve just joined them. She requested the team attend.”

Now Harry noticed it, there were a relatively high number of quidditch players here.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice Potter. I heard quidditch players were rather your type.” He took a sip of his drink. “Breaking hearts all over Europe.”

Harry scoffed. “Bullshit.”

Malfoy just raised his eyebrows.

Harry pouted, refusing to acknowledge Malfoy’s observation. He _had_ dated a handful of quidditch players. They were always so energetic in bed.

“I didn’t stand him up. There was an emergency at work.”

“Well, you don’t have that excuse anymore.” Malfoy replied, grinning.

“Touché. Are you saying I should settle down now Malfoy?”

“Gosh, am I now your relationship counsellor as well as being your shoulder to cry on?” Malfoy turned to the bar to order another drink, missing Harry’s eye roll.

Was Malfoy flirting with him, or just taking the piss? Harry was notoriously bad at spotting whether someone liked him. He generally preferred clubs. At least when someone was grinding against him he could be sure.

Malfoy wasn’t bad looking though. Harry took a surreptitious glance. He was pretty stunning actually, all legs and lean muscle, slightly taller than him, just what Harry liked. Harry was single now, and he hadn’t got laid in a couple of weeks.

New glass in hand, another tall clear drink, Malfoy scanned the room appraisingly. “Well, it’s been great to catch up Potter. Now if you’ll excuse me now, I must be seen mingling.”

Harry nodded and watched him be swallowed up into the crowd. He sighed. He guessed he’d have to do the same. He signaled for another whisky. Tonight was going to be a long night.

\---

Much later he found himself back at the bar in need of one last whisky. He’d only just managed to escape a conversation with some donor or other that Kingsley simply insisted he must meet. He wasn’t drunk, perhaps pleasantly buzzed, but one more wouldn’t hurt, then he could head home and maybe even roll a gillyweed joint. That should help him sleep. Or he could find someone to take home, a good orgasm never failed to knock him out.

He was looking at the remaining faces, illuminated by the snowflakes and the generous supply of Ministry alcohol. He spotted a guy from the Magical Transportation who he’d slept with before and had been half decent.

“Got your eye on anyone Potter?”

Malfoy again. Harry turned to him. He still looked gorgeous, not a single hair had escaped from his bun which Harry thought was extremely unfair. He was sure that his own hair was a disaster.

Harry laughed. “Just having a look to see if there’s a better option than the gillyweed I have at home.”

Malfoy smiled at him again. 

In the past Harry might have called that facial expression a smirk, but with snowflakes glittering around him, Harry noticed a softness that he wouldn’t have historically associated with the man.

Malfoy leaned towards him conspiratorially, his mouth only inches from Harry’s ear. “I’ll give you a better option, if you’re interested.” he whispered. To any passing onlooker it would have looked as if Malfoy was simply leaning in to be heard over the music.

Harry swallowed. He hadn’t really expected anything to come of their conversion earlier, but now that Malfoys breath was tickling his ear, his lips almost touching, Harry felt a jolt of desire swoop through his body. Why not? He was single. He didn’t have anything to do tomorrow.

He nodded, his body almost acting on autopilot. “Mine?”

“Yours.” Malfoy confirmed.

\---

Malfoy was on him as soon as they landed, pulling him in for a rough kiss before pressing their bodies together and mouthing down the side of Harry’s neck.

“Not that I’m complaining, but where did this come from?” Harry asked breathlessly, the twin sensation of Malfoy’s mouth on his neck and his hands on Harry’s arse sending him wild.

Malfoy pulled back slightly, looking directly into his eyes before biting Harry’s lip slowly. Harry swallowed. “You seemed like you’d be up for it.” Malfoy replied nonchalantly, kissing him where he’d just bitten Harry’s lip. “I’ve just arrived back in London and I don’t know anyone yet. Don’t tell me I wasn’t the best option in the room?” He smirked against Harry’s lips. “Ministry events aren’t exactly a popular gay hookup location.”

Harry didn’t reply, instead he pulled Malfoy back in for another kiss and started unfastening the clasp at the top of his robes, revealing a crisp white shirt and surprisingly muscled arms. Harry moved his hands down, past Malfoy’s narrow waist and squeezing his firm arse. Malfoy groaned into his neck and Harry decided that he needed to hear more of that sound.

The pace only increased as each undressed the other, both pressing feverish kisses against newly revealed skin. Fuck this was so hot.

“Fucking hell Malfoy. Can I blow you?” Harry asked as Malfoy pushed down his own underwear. Malfoy didn’t reply, instead pushing Harry onto the sofa and climbing on top of him.

Harry loved this kind of hook up. High energy, no teasing, one where he was sober enough to feel everything but drunk enough to dull the awkwardness of sleeping with a stranger - even if in this situation Malfoy wasn’t exactly a stranger.

Malfoy tilted his hips downwards slightly and Harry took him into his mouth. Malfoy made a guttural noise above him and Harry groaned as he shifted his jaw, swallowing as Malfoy’s dick touched the back of his throat.

Nothing to be ashamed of in the size department, Harry thought as ran his hands up Malfoy’s toned thighs.

Harry moved to grip Malfoy’s arse, giving him a small push, a subtle suggestion for Malfoy to move. The other man seemed to get the message. Malfoy began to slowly fuck his mouth, so Harry moved one hand to his own throbbing dick and began to wank in time with Malfoy’s thrusts.

He opened his eyes and glanced up briefly. Malfoy had one arm on the back of the sofa, the other moving to push back Harry’s hair. He looked incredible, all toned abs and pale skin.

Harry closed his eyes again and picked up the pace on his own dick, his hand flying over the tip just how he liked. Malfoy groaned above him. “Potter, I’m going to come. You’re going to make me come.” Harry moaned and tried to relax his jaw further, hoping Malfoy would get the hint and finish in his mouth.

He felt Malfoy’s hips stutter then he tasted the first shot of bitter spunk hit his tongue. Harry allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the sensation, the slight pain in his jaw, the taste on his tongue, the sound of Malfoy panting above him. He felt a familiar white hot pleasure building and he tightened his fist. Malfoy started to pull out but Harry squeezed his arse hard, holding him in place. Malfoy stilled and Harry used his tongue to lick up the last few drops of cum as he felt his own orgasm wash over him, pleasure rushing through his body. He felt himself covering his hand in cum as he groaned deeply.

He pushed Malfoy off him. “Fuck!”

Malfoy laughed. “Fuck indeed Potter. That was good.”

Harry grinned, a sleepy sense of satisfaction dragging him further into the sofa. He wiped his hand on a cushion, looking up at Malfoy who was already reaching for his clothes.

“Potter that’s disgusting, are you a wizard or not?”

“Whatever Malfoy, I’ll sort it out tomorrow.” He could already feel his eyelids closing. “That was fun Malfoy, good suggestion.”

“Agreed.” Malfoy was tucking his shirt into his trousers. “Now sleep tight princess, but do try not to fall asleep down here. I presume you have a large number of bedrooms in this house.”

“I won’t.” Harry replied.

“Hmm.” Malfoy kissed him. “Goodnight Potter.”

“Night.”


	7. Chapter 7

**PROMPT: HOT CHOCOLATE**

It was at two o’clock on the dot when Hermione slid into their usual booth at the cafe around the corner from the Ministry. Harry had never known her to be late, and after the note he’d received to his house earlier that day, he certainly wasn’t about to keep her waiting. In neat, crisp handwriting it had simply read:

_Harry James Potter, you have some explaining to do. 2pm._

He’d known from the handwriting that it was from Hermione, and he’d known from the use of his middle name that he was in trouble.

“I’ve already ordered you a macchiato.” He said, in a meagre attempt to distract from the topic she’d no doubt come to discuss.

She sat down, taking a moment to arrange her dress, before levelling him with a look that confirmed that he was indeed in trouble.

“Harry.” she began. He mentally prepared himself.

“I have read, albeit in The Prophet, that you not only quit your job on Monday, but that you subsequently ripped a hole in the Ministry’s wards when you chose to apparate home? Is that correct?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, nervously. “I’d say that ‘chose to’ isn’t totally accurate, I wasn’t really thinking straight at that moment.” he replied.

“You weren’t really thinking straight at that moment?” Hermione repeated, eyebrows raised. “Might that have something to do with the fact that you ‘weren’t really thinking’ about quitting that day either?”

“Umm-” Harry started. She was still staring at him intently so he thought he better be honest. “Well I had been thinking about, maybe, not being an Auror anymore.”

“Yes.” She replied. “Ron mentioned after we were round with the kids on Sunday. He said to me that he’d told you to spend some time over the Christmas break planning out your options.” She fixed him with an expression that left him very much with the impression that in her opinion, he had not given this matter the appropriate amount of thought.

“I probably would have decided to quit anyway Mione, you know what the department’s like.”

“Harry.” she sighed. “Of course I know what the department is like. I’ve heard enough from you over the years, and you know I have similar challenges. It took them nearly eight years to change the racist name of the department for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh swearing! Lucky the kids aren’t around.” He joked.

“Stop deflecting Harry.” She paused to take a sip of the drink that had just appeared in front of her. “I just-” she paused. “-don’t you think there’s a bit of a theme here Harry?” She took another sip. “You quit without really thinking about it, you apparated out of the Ministry which you definitely didn’t think about. The Department of Mysteries is still trying to weave wards back together you know!” she added.

He smiled slightly, at least he’d left his mark.

“No Harry it’s not funny. I don’t care about the wards, but I’m worried about you. You’re rushing into things.”

“You know me.” he replied. “Act first, think later.”

“Self depreciation won’t help you here Harry.” she scolded. “Look.” she took his hand in his. “I know it was frustrating there Harry, but things are changing. They are getting better. Kingsley’s doing a good job, if we just keep going then-”

“I’m not going back Mione.” he interrupted, snatching his hand away. “I hate it. Sure things are changing, but too slowly. Look at us.” We’re nearly fifteen years out of the war and half the stuff’s the same. The judicial process is still fucked up! Like elected politicians involved in criminal proceedings, even if they don’t have the dementors at Azkaban anymore. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t what we all fought for. And I don’t want to be a part of it anymore!”

“Sorry, excuse me.” A nervous looking waitress had just arrived at his shoulder and was looking at him a little like he was going to explode. “Christmas hot chocolate for table 3?”

“Err, yes, just here please.” he nodded at the table, watching as she placed an absolutely enormous drink in front of him. It was covered in tiny marshmallows and colourful sprinkles.

He looked up at Hermione. “I think this-” he nodded at the drink, “-rather undermines my outburst.” he offered.

She laughed. “A little."

He took a sip, it was creamy and indulgent and had entirely too many marshmallows.

“Look Harry.” She began again. “I’m not saying that things have turned out how I planned at the Ministry. And I’m lucky that I have Ron and the kids to keep me grounded. But I want to keep going, it’s the right thing to do.”

Harry sighed. He knew that in many ways Hermione was right. But he wasn’t wired like her, he couldn’t play the long game. He’d always been impulsive, quick to action. He didn’t have the kind of patience she had.

“You’re right, I didn’t think it through. But I don’t regret it. I’m not going back.”

“Okay Harry. I do get it, I just-”

“I know you wish I could tough it out with you, I just can’t stay Hermione, it’s too much.”

“I know Harry, I wasn’t going to say that. You shouldn’t interrupt!”

“Yes _mum_.” he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say that.” she warned. “No I was going to say that I think there’s a bigger picture here. You said it yourself, you act first, think second. I’m your friend, and I care about you, and I can’t help but think that if you thought first every now and again, it might sometimes work out for you.” She finished her coffee. “I know you don’t want to talk about Stefano-”

“I didn’t say that!” he retorted. She glared at him.

“I know you didn’t say that Harry. But I was catching up with Luna last night and she said that you had shut her down rather abruptly when she brought him on Friday.” she said pointedly.

Harry looked down at the hot chocolate, hot shame sweeping through his body. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I apologised.” he replied.

“The point is-” Hermione continued, “-perhaps if you thought that relationship through, it could be a good chance for you to practice reflecting and planning before you dive straight into something new.”

Harry felt himself freeze, his jumping to the memory of just how enthusiastically he’d _dived in_ when sucking Malfoy’s cock last night. Merlin that was good sex.

He was awoken from his daydreams by a the sound of Hermione clearing her throat. “Harry.”

“Yes Hermione.” he answered innocently.

“You’re smiling to yourself. Am I to assume that I’m perhaps a little too late with the ‘don’t dive in’ conversation?” Harry sighed again. This was why she was always considered the brightest witch of her age, Harry lamented. It wasn’t because of her grades, or her career, it was because she could read Harry like a book.

“ImaybesleptwithDracoMalfoyaftertheMinistrygalalastnight.” he blurted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows further than he thought it was possible for them to go.

“Oh you did, did you?” she enquired.

“I wasn’t that drunk!” he protested. “It was fun!”

“I’m sure it was.” she replied. “I’m not judging either way, I just think that, perhaps, a one night stand with your childhood nemesis is one of those things I was talking about, something you should think about first?”

Harry fought his compulsion to argue back. She was right, really. He had been vaguely considering taking someone home when Malfoy had joined him at the bar at the end of the night. They’d clearly both been up for it, so he’d just gone with it. He hadn’t really considered any of their history. Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed if Draco still had a scar from that horrible incident in the bathroom in sixth year. Fuck. Maybe Hermione had a point.

“You are right Hermione. You know you’re always right.” he conceded.

She smiled, sadly. “I know I am Harry. On this at least.” she looked at the clock above the counter. “Look, I have to get back, but don’t think we’re done talking about Malfoy. And think about what I said okay?”

“I will.” he agreed.

He took a final sip of the no-longer-hot chocolate. He had a lot to process. Although his mind kept coming back to something Hermione had said right at the end. _One night stand_. The point she’d been making had been fair, sure, but he couldn’t help but focus on that detail. He’d had plenty of one night stands before, but last night with Malfoy had felt, different. He’d had fun at the bar, and they seemed to be on the same page when they arrived at Harry’s.

Perhaps he had found something to think about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes my own - I finished this chapter after work!

**PROMPT: REGENT STREET CHRISTMAS LIGHTS**

Hermione’s advice was still fresh in his mind as he caught sight of The Prophet that morning. _What’s Next For Our Saviour?_ was the front page headline, accompanied by a photo of him from Tuesday night’s gala. Thankfully, he recognised the shot as having been taken as he arrived.

Instead of spiraling into a temper like he might normally have done, he took a deep breath, fixed a casual smile onto his face, and then levitated the paper straight into the already happily burning fire.

Of course he was curious to read what they’d said about him. After all, Hermione had been nagging him to cancel his subscription for years and he hadn’t. He always insisted that he liked to keep up with the quidditch leagues, which was true, but a small part of him was interested in keeping up with what the press was saying. If anything it prepared him for the bullpen most mornings.

But today was a new day. He didn’t have a bullpen full of new recruits to worry about. In fact, he didn’t have anything to worry about at all. It was a new feeling, but he liked it.

Picking up his morning coffee, he cast a warming charm around him and went to sit on the bench outside the kitchen doors. The sky was blue but the air was crisp, the kind of December morning that Harry always enjoyed waking up to when he’d been at Hogwarts. He blew gently on the coffee, the steam momentarily fogging up his glasses.

As he surveyed the garden, he thought about what he’d do that day. Hermione had told him to think, so he would. But he’d start small.

His first thought was of Teddy, it was fantastic weather for flying. Although he’d have to tell the boy that he no longer was in possession of an Auror broom. But then Harry remembered that Hogwarts was still going, and that Teddy wouldn’t be home until the weekend. He’d only been able to see him on Sunday because it had been a Hogsmeade weekend.

He could go flying by himself, he supposed. He was already three days away from the Auror training gym and he could do with some exercise. He wasn’t sure if he fancied flying alone though.

Then his mind jumped to Malfoy. Malfoy flew, and he’d be able to give Harry a decent game too. He could ask Malfoy. But then he remembered it was Thursday, and Malfoy was likely at training as unlike Harry, he had a full time job. The pang of disappointment he felt on remembering that Malfoy wouldn’t be available surprised him a little. He’d barely seen the man in years. Just one night of albeit pretty spectacular sex shouldn’t be making him feel like this.

He thought back to Thursday night, the words _That was your last chance_ pressed into the coin in his hand. He didn’t remember feeling disappointed then. Frustrated, yes, but disappointed? And here he was a week later feeling disappointed that he couldn’t spend the day with a man he’d spoken to for the sum total of about half an hour in the last five years.

He picked up the now empty coffee cup and headed back inside. Stefano had been fun, but their time together had been limited to weekends when their schedules matched up. These weekends were few and far between, and had been mostly spent in bed together in hotel rooms in locations near to Stefano’s next match. They’d met in Paris, Rome, Tallinn and Lubliana and Harry had barely been outside, except for one notable weekend in Barcelona where Harry had decided to apparate to the wizarding district briefly to buy some gillyweed for them. Despite their six month romance, he couldn’t describe Stephano as particularly interesting. Neither of them had been particularly bothered by the other's career or social life, instead focusing on each other’s bodies, and occasionally the league. But Malfoy was different. While the conversation they’d had on Tuesday had been brief, Harry had found himself enjoying the playful teasing between them, and mutual displeasure at being forced to attend such a dry event. He knew that he was living up to one stereotype or another by finding one of the few gay men at a predominantly straight event and then proceeding to bitch about everyone else, but it had been fun.

Harry set the cup in the sink and headed upstairs to get changed. Either way, it was ten thirty on a Tuesday, and Malfoy wasn’t around, even if a surprisingly large part of Harry wanted him to be.

\---

Many hours later he found himself crossing Oxford Street by the tube station. After a late lunch he’d decided to leave the house on foot, first taking a meandering route along the canal near his house towards Camden and Regent's Park, then turning south into Fitzrovia once the sun had set. He always enjoyed London at this time of year, the smell of mulled wine in the air and Christmas lights shining in the windows of homes and shops alike.

Oxford Street was busy with shoppers, but he took the time to stop and admire the Christmas lights anyway. While he liked the more conceptual illuminated spheres that lined London’s main commercial street, he preferred the lights on Regent Street. A series of giant angels were spaced down the curved carriageway, their wingspan reaching almost to the buildings on either side of the road. Harry thought they looked beautiful, but powerful.

It was getting late now, so he decided to cut into Soho and get some dinner. He’d brought a book with him, a thin paperback Hermione had leant him, so he ordered a carafe of red wine alongside his food and settled in. A while later he noticed the waitstaff eyeing him nervously. He took the hint and paid his bill, taking a moment to appreciate that on a normal Thursday he’d likely still be at work. It was late enough now that Soho’s bars were beginning to fill up so he spontaneously decided to drop into one of his regular haunts.

“Busy night tonight?” he said to the tall bearded man behind the bar. He’d been here enough over the last few years to recognise him by sight, although for the life of him Harry couldn’t remember his name. He supposed he’d always been much more drunk than this.

“Christmas parties you know?” the man replied, pouring Harry another large glass of red. “A few free drinks and everyone decides they want to party. Not that it takes much to convince us gays to go dancing.”

Harry chuckled. “Too true.”

“I haven’t seen you here in a while. Looking to get back into the game?”

Harry smiled. “I was with someone, but now-” His thoughts turned to Malfoy, again catching him by surprise. “Maybe.” he added. As much as he enjoyed Tuesday night, one shag did by no means make for an exclusive arrangement. Still, interesting how his mind went there again, even surrounded by scores of potential hookups.

He sipped his wine and looked around. There did indeed to be a strong contingent of people who had clearly left office parties, they were slightly more formally dressed than the rest of the patrons, and considerably more drunk.

A slim blonde caught his eye, his neck working as he downed a shot alongside a handful of others. Harry knew that he wasn’t bad looking himself, and he had the kind of confidence that came with a few more years. He was sure he could go home with the blond if he liked. He considered introducing himself, but he couldn’t help compare this man to Malfoy. Malfoy was older, and he carried himself with a confidence that this man hadn’t yet grown into. Malfoy was also stronger, firmer, more able to show Harry what we wanted. In fact, looking at the blonde again, he wasn’t actually sure this man was a top. Harry didn’t mind topping every now and again, but he had a distinct preference.

He sighed, Malfoy was cockblocking him and he wasn’t even here. The man would be so proud.

Finishing his drink, he decided that a night out wasn’t for him. He found an empty side street nearby and apparated home.

His house was quiet but warm, the fire still crackling merrily in the harth. He didn’t have a Christmas tree up yet, but something about the fire felt seasonal. He crossed the living room to the small bar he had set up in the corner and poured himself a whisky before setting up some music to play in the background.

He settled into the sofa and his mind of course went back to Malfoy, how he’d pushed his cock into Harry’s mouth in this very spot only two nights before. He could always invite Malfoy over again. He might be free. The idea was tempting, very tempting.

Decision made, he penned a quick note and sent it with Artimus, his owl of ten years. Then he resumed his place on the sofa once more and tried not to think too much into whether he’d come across desperate.

His nervousness turned to relief and then excitement as a reply came back almost immediately confirming that Malfoy would be over in thirty minutes.

Harry jumped up to head for the shower, taking care to clean inside and out before putting on the same clothes he’d worn that day. He didn’t want it to look too much like he’d planned this, especially considering he hadn’t.

Hermione’s words flashed into his mind. _Don’t dive in_. He smiled as he toweled his hair, he didn’t think this counted. He’d been thinking about the man all day after all.

The sound of the floo flaring brought his attention back to the present and he shot a quick drying charm at his hair before heading downstairs.

“Potter.” Malfoy said, stepping out of the floo. “I was a little surprised to receive your note, you don’t have a reputation for sticking around. Although opening it to read a scrawled _You up?_ left me with no doubt that it was definitely from you, and not some imposter.”

Harry laughed. “I stick around if it’s worth sticking around, Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s eyes darkened and he crossed the room to where Harry was leaning against the doorframe. He looked intently into Harry’s eyes, as if checking for something, but whatever he was looking for he obviously found as the next minute Harry found himself crowded against the door, Malfoy kissing him slowly.

“I think you’ll find that I’m worth sticking around for.” Malfoy whispered seductively, before deepening the kiss. Their tongues touched and Harry groaned into the other man’s mouth. He’d been half hard in the shower just thinking about Malfoy’s arrival, but he could feel himself harden fully in his jeans as they continued making out. Kissing Malfoy was so goddamn hot, Harry loved how the other man took control, hands tight on Harry’s hips, positioning him just so, allowing their bodies to press together sensually. Harry groaned again as Malfoy bit down hard on his lip but felt strong hands still his body as he tried to press himself more firmly against the other man.

“Patience Potter. This time we have all evening.” He kissed Harry’s cheek. “Want to show me your bedroom?”

Harry nodded, before kissing him once more on the lips then pushing away from the wall. “It’s upstairs.”

He led the way, and if he sashayed his hips slightly while climbing the stairs, well, who was to know. He knew his arse looked pretty good in these jeans.

Malfoy growled behind him, and Harry suddenly felt those hands on his hips again almost causing him to fall forwards, but the hands held him in place as he felt Malfoy take a playful bite through the denim into the soft part of his arse.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’re doing Potter.” He slapped Harry’s bum where he’d just bitten it and Harry shivered. “Hurry along now Potter.”

Fuck this man was going to be the death of him.

Finally they made it into his bedroom and he turned to face Malfoy. The other man looked gorgeous. A crisp white shirt stretched slightly across his pecs, and Harry’s mouth watered at the idea of getting his mouth on his body again.

Malfoy took out his wand and Harry was about to object when Malfoy vanished his clothes.

“What-”

“Shh Potter. It’s my turn don’t you think?”

Harry barely had time to think through what the man was talking about before Malfoy had pushed him back onto the bed and bent over him, taking Harry’s cock straight into his mouth. Harry’s mind went blank, all he could focus on was hot, wet, tight as Malfoy bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Oh my god.” Harry breathed. “Nngh.” Warm pleasure began to build, each breath was a sigh. He felt himself rapidly losing his ability to keep quiet. He propped himself on his elbows to watch. Malfoy was sucking his dick with a cool composure that sent Harry wild, his hair was again tight in that bun and he was still fully dressed. Harry felt himself getting close. He was about to warn Malfoy when the man pulled off and Harry groaned as the cool air pulled him back from the edge.

“You showered before I got here?” Malfoy asked. Harry nodded.

Malfoy grinned and then flipped Harry onto his front. Harry felt him crawl up the bed, his trousers rubbing up against Harry’s naked calfs. Harry shivered at the image, him, naked, hard dick trapped against the covers, Malfoy, on top, fully dressed. Then he felt warm breath against his hole and he lost the ability to think at all.

Malfoy was licking him over and over again and Harry was groaning at every breath now. He loved being rimmed. Malfoy seemed encouraged by the noises Harry was making and Harry felt Malfoy’s own groan vibrate through his body. Those strong hands half his cheeks apart as an insistent tongue began to press inside him. Harry was grinding against the covers now, anything to heighten the sensation, but Malfoy’s grip made it difficult to move. It wasn’t impossible for him to come like this but Harry preferred the duel stimulation of a hand on his cock.

“Fuck!” Malfoy was pressing a lubed finger into him now and Harry felt sweat dripping down his face as it lay turned to the side against his crossed arms. He had no idea when Malfoy had conjured lube and he didn’t care, the feeling of the man’s tongue and thick fingers had left him incapable of thinking straight.

“Another?” he heard Malfoy ask and he nodded into his arms.

“What was that?” Malfoy had stilled.

“Fuck, don’t stop! Yes, another. As many as you like!” Harry almost shouted.

He heard Malfoy chuckle as two fingers breached him. It burned slightly, but then that feeling mellowed into blissful pleasure, especially once Malfoy’s tongue began licking around his rim again. Merlin he might even come.

“I’m ready Malfoy. Fuck me.” he said.

“Yeh?” Malfoy replied, lifting his head to look at him.

“Yeh. Do it.” Harry confirmed.

Malfoy nodded and slowly pulled his fingers out. Harry watched him undo the fly of his trousers.

“On your knees.” Malfoy instructed. Harry complied, and Malfoy again grabbed his hips to pull him further down the bed. The man was standing now, spreading lube over his cock.

Harry looked down at the covers as he felt Malfoy’s warm, hard cock press against him, and then he was pushing back against the man as Malfoy held perfectly still.

“That’s it Potter. Fuck yourself on me.”

“Nngh” Harry breathed as he felt Malfoy pop through the first ring of muscle. He held still for a moment, his brain catching up as that familiar burn again subsided to a dull pleasure.

“I’m good.” Harry said.

“Mmm.” Malfoy replied, slowly pressing his hips forward. “You feel incredible. You take me so well.”

“Merlin yes, fuck me Malfoy. Fucking give it to me.”

“Such a filthy mouth.” Malfoy chuckled, but then he drove his hips forward and Harry felt pleasure explode through his body.

“Nngh right there.”

Yeh?” Malfoy asked. Then thrust forward again, hitting the same spot. “There?” he teased as Harry groaned in pleasure.

“Fucking hell Malfoy, fuck me already.”

It seemed that Malfoy had had enough of teasing too and the other man start fucking him properly, hard and fast, just like Harry liked. He was hitting Harry’s prostate on almost every thrust and it felt like every nerve was on fire. Malfoy was breathing hard now, the relentless pace seemingly affecting him as much as it was affecting Harry.

Harry shifted his weight onto his left arm and grabbed his cock, wanking furiously.

“Yeh that’s it Potter. Make yourself come. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Nngh, fuck yes.” Pleasure was building fast and Malfoy’s encouragement was enough to push him over the edge. He collapsed forward onto the bed, face pressing against covers, hand working himself through his oragasm.

He felt Malfoy press deep inside him and then the other man was coming too, his cock throbbing.

The room was silent apart from the sound of their heavy breathing. Malfoy pulled out and Harry collapsed onto his back, one arm bent across his eyes.

“Fucking hell.”

Malfoy grinned. “Not bad Potter. Who knew you’d be such a slut for it.”

He could tell Malfoy was teasing, but Harry felt himself blush.

“As much as I’d love to stay, I have fitness first thing in the morning and I really need to get home. Maybe next time.”

Harry found himself nodding. Next time. _Next time_.

“Sure. I’m just going to go to sleep now okay. You’ve finished me.”

“Sex really knocks you out doesn’t it?” Malfoy laughed.

Harry barely had the energy to agree. All he could think about was sleep, and maybe next time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter today, but hopefully you can forgive me after yesterday's chapter ended up being more than 3k!

**PROMPT: HEDGEHOG MITTENS**

“Have you come to help?” Ron shouted across the busy shop. He was carrying a stack of brightly coloured boxes which looked like they’d topple over at any moment. Harry carefully levitated the top few leaving Ron space to see where he was going.

“Thanks mate. I should have levitated them to start with. It’s the new shipment of our seasonal skiving snackboxes. We’ve been inundated with requests from people wanting to get out of awkward family gatherings.”

Harry laughed. “I could have done with one of those the other night. Kingsley insisted I go to Tuesday’s Ministry Gala.”

Ron leaned towards him, briefly looking over his shoulder to check whether anyone was in earshot. “Hermione tells me that perhaps you enjoyed yourself after all, if you get what I’m saying.” He nudged Harry in the ribs playfully. “Are you going to see him again?”

Harry realised he was scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’d picked up somewhere along the way. “I maybe saw him last night.”

“At his?”

“No, at mine. I invited him.” He moved backwards out of the way of a small child who was chasing after a levitating owl toy. “Do you think it was too soon?”

“Look at you, you’re blushing!” Ron replied in lieu of an answer to his question.

“I’m not!” Harry insisted, but he could feel his cheeks colouring.

“You _like_ him.” Ron teased.

“Merlin will you leave it alone!” Harry retorted, but there was no heat in his words. He had been fairly confident that Ron wouldn’t react too badly on hearing the news, but the war had left deep scars on all of them, and one could never be sure when its legacy would rear its ugly head. Even so, it was still reassuring that Ron’s first instinct was to trust him.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Ron asked. They’d moved behind the counter and Harry was now less worried about them being overheard by loitering reporters.

“It’s causal. Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ron raised his eyebrows, but Harry remained silent. His gut said yes, there was something there. But if the last few days had taught him anything, he had to learn not to always go with his gut. It was Malfoy’s turn to ask him anyway. Surely he wasn’t that desperate. Wasn’t he?

“Well if you’re going to stand there being all mysterious then you can be all mysterious while helping. It’s all hands on deck at the moment.”

Harry could believe that. The sheer noise surrounding them was almost overwhelming. Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many children in one space.

“I’m happy to be of assistance, I’m not doing anything today. Have you got anything in the back though? I’m not sure how I feel about being on display.” He’d already noticed a few less than subtle glances, and while for now he was mostly hidden by the large Christmas tree next to the counter, he was sure it was only a matter of time before someone gained the confidence to come and introduce themselves.

“Right this way my friend.”

Ron led them through a magical barrier not unlike the one at Platform 9 ¾. “Stops anyone except staff.” Ron explained. “You’re an investor.” he added at Harry’s confused expression.

“Ah yes. I always forget about that.”

“Don’t let George hear you say that. He’ll convert your shares into pixie dust or something.”

“Is he around today?” Harry asked. He didn’t pop into the Weasley’s as much as he used to, but he always enjoyed catching up with Ron’s brothers. He’d even stayed relatively close with Ginny despite never reconciling _romantically_ after the war. He wondered distractedly if Ginny and Malfoy would come across each other now they both played in the UK league.

“No he’s in Hogsmeade this weekend. It’s almost as busy up here as it is down here.”

“I can believe that.” he said, thinking of their own student days.

They arrived at a small packing table after Ron had stopped to give an update to a few members of staff who were just arriving for the afternoon shift.

“Here we are. You can help Rose.”

“Hi Uncle Harry!” she beamed. “I’m helping Daddy which means I’m also helping Santa Clause because Mummy says that Daddy helps Santa Claus! I even wore my special hedgehog mittens in case it was as cold like Santa’s house in the North Pole!” She held up her hands for him to see.

Harry grinned. “You daddy has a very important job.”

“Mione and me are trying to teach them Muggle and magical festivals. ”Ron whispered. “When Rose heard about Santa’s grotto she insisted she come and help. She’s like her mum, trying to help the elves!”

Personally Harry thought that was adorable.

“Reckon you can sit here and watch her for a bit?”

“Sure thing mate.” Harry had no problem spending the afternoon with his goddaughter. At six years old she was already a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps now he wasn’t working, he could spend even more time with Ron and Hermione’s kids, maybe even offer to look after them a day a week. The idea warmed him right through. Another thing to think about it, he mused.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I thought I could spare one of the staff but it’s manic out there.”

“No problem.” Harry replied, smiling. “Uncle Harry to the rescue.”


	10. Chapter 10

**PROMPT: TINY CHRISTMAS TREE IN A POT**

Andromeda’s annual Christmas get together was in full swing when the host herself approached him.

“That’s the second time I’ve seen you glance at the front door Harry. Expecting someone?” she enquired with a faintly amused expression.

“Huh? Oh, no no. Just.. happened to be looking in that direction.” Harry managed to get out. He’d expected Malfoy to be here, that’s all. He’d thought he was being subtle but Andromeda’s raised eyebrows said otherwise. “These mince pies are delicious though.” he added, holding up his half-eaten one, his satisfaction at the topic change disappearing as he watched a large section of the crumbly pastry drop onto the floor.

“Thank you Harry.” she replied sincerely, vanishing the mess he’d made. “It’s a family recipe. Ted used to make the filling and I’d do the pastry.” she said wistfully. “And now I’m teaching young Teddy. Although I’m not sure if I ever manage to keep his attention on the measurements, you know fourteen year old boys!”

Harry reflected momentarily that no, he didn’t, not really. Of course he’d been fourteen once, but he was fairly confident in saying that his experience hadn’t been particularly normal. He knew Teddy though, and he privately agreed with Andromeda. The boy was far more interested in friends and quidditch than baking, but he cared about his Gran, so perhaps he would listen.

“Oh, you’ve just reminded me.” Harry checked around them for the boy in question. “I was thinking of buying Teddy a broom for Christmas this year. What do you think?”

“Harry, that’s far too generous!” Andromeda insisted.

“Not at all. I’d like to. He’s been hassling me for years to have a go on my Auror one and I feel a little guilty that I’ve rather messed up my promise to let him have a go once he turns fifteen.”

“Oh Harry, he’ll understand. I expect half the fun was flying with you, I’m sure he’ll be just as happy on a regular broom."

“I hope so.”

“If it’s specialist brooms he’s interested in, he could always ask Draco now he’s back in the country. I imagine he’d have all sorts, what with him playing professional quidditch.”

Harry remained silent. Draco. He didn’t think he’d thought of the man by that name before. It felt weird reconciling it in his head. He wondered vaguely what it sounded like out loud.

“-leave it with you?” Andromeda was saying and Harry realised he must have zoned out.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Andromeda smiled patiently. “I was saying that perhaps you could both take Teddy flying. I’d like for Teddy to get to know his cousin. He was only young when Draco moved to France. But perhaps he’d feel more comfortable if you were there too.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. That.. makes sense.”

“That will be alright, won’t it Harry?” she asked earnestly.

Harry really hoped he wasn’t blushing. Andromeda clearly thought his caution stemmed from their being on opposite sides of the war, not that Harry was currently trying to do everything in his power not to be affected by the memory of the man pushing his tongue into Harry’s arse the other night.

“Of course!” Harry replied quickly. “That makes sense. Teddy would probably like someone he knew well there too.”

“I agree.” She gestured to her empty cup. “Well, I’m going to get a little more mulled wine. Would you like a top up?”

“Oh no thanks, not right now.” Harry replied.

Instead he weaved through the crowded living room and stepped out of the back door. He needed a moment. Shagging Malfoy was one thing, but going flying with him and Teddy, well, that was another thing entirely. That was a serious thing. Or at least a complicated thing. Surprisingly enough, the idea didn’t make him recoil. In fact, if he thought about it he could just about picture it. The day out, finding a secluded place to fly, maybe followed up by a hot chocolate, perhaps taking Malfoy home after dropping off Teddy. It sounded like a pretty perfect day if he was being honest.

A robin hopped across the frosted grass and Harry watched it, contemplating. This was all happening so quickly. Less than two weeks ago he’d been with Stefano, and while those memories had already started to fade, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was rushing things. Talking with Malfoy, sleeping with Malfoy, he felt a real connection, but was he getting caught up in the excitement? Was a date what he wanted right now? Was a relationship what he wanted right now?

He wasn’t sure.

Mentally congratulating himself for allowing himself time to reflect he turned and headed back inside. Hermione would be so proud.

\---

Hours later the party was wrapping up, the last few remaining guests either putting on coats or refreshing warming charms.

“I think I’m going to head home too.” Harry announced.

“Are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” Andromeda asked.

“No no, I couldn’t. You’ve already done so much today! Thank you anyway.” Harry insisted. As much as he loved spending time with Teddy and Andromeda, after an afternoon of small talk he needed some alone time. There were only times you could say ‘Actually I’m taking a break from work at the moment’ or ‘No no, single, like last year’ without needing to spend some time in a dark room.

“That’s okay Harry.” Teddy added. “Can I still come by next week though? For our day out?”

“Of course!” Harry replied. “It’s a tradition.”

“Oh and thank you for the gift Harry.” Andromeda looked over at the little Christmas tree that sat in it’s pot near the door. He’d grown it himself and was very proud of it. Although it really was very small. Harry had attached a red bauble to the top lest it got confused with a regular hedge plant, but the poor tree was nearly bent in half from the weight of it. “It’s very-” she paused. “-cute.”

Harry laughed. “I know it’s wonky. Maybe next year it’ll be taller!” He grabbed a handful of floo powder. “Right. I’ll see you soon, and next time we can-”

But he never got to finish his sentence because at that moment a crack of apparatation announced the arrival of a very sweaty looking Draco Malfoy.

“I’m sorry I’m so late Aunt!” He started. “The game ran over but I came as soon as I could, hence my attire.” he gestured towards himself.

Whether Malfoy said anything else, Harry couldn’t be sure. Malfoy was still in his quidditch kit having evidently come straight from a game and Harry felt as if all the blood had rushed from his brain to other, more pressing places. The man looked like a wet dream, sweaty, strong, and wearing entirely too much leather for Harry to be able to handle. He was momentarily worried that he might actually be drooling. Merlin he needed to get a hold of himself!

He resurfaced from the fantasy to find Malfoy looking at him expectedly.

“Alright there Potter?” he teased, a wry grin on his face as if he knew exactly what Harry had been thinking.

“Uh.. yes, fine, thank you.” Harry stuttered.

“Draco will be staying for dinner Harry. Are you sure you have to go?” Andromeda asked.

Harry looked to the floo powder in his hand, and then back up at Malfoy. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get through a dinner without combusting. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do about Malfoy yet, and sitting across from the man at what would essentially be a family dinner while he was dressed like one of Harry’s deepest fantasies would not help him decide. 

“Um.. no it’s okay.”Merlin that was the second time he’d gotten tongue tied around Malfoy in less than a minute. “I’ll see you soon though!” he added hastily. He needed to get out of here before he embarrassed himself any further.

He threw the floo powder into the fire, announced his destination, then stepped in. As he was spinning away he couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d imagined the slightly disappointed expression on Malfoy’s face.  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I missed yesterday - work has been super busy! I'll catch up before the end of the weekend :)

**PROMPT: GIFTS UNDER THE TREE**

Harry stood in the doorway to his living room holding a hot cup of tea in both hands. He blew on it gently and took a small sip. _Perfect_.

Perhaps if he never entered the room then he wouldn’t have to deal with the scene before him. It looked a little like the backroom at Honeydukes, he thought, remembering the time he’d sneaked to Hogsmeade in third year. Every available surface and most of the floor space was covered in gifts ready to be wrapped. A large pine tree lay on its side, and next to it was a box of assorted decorations. He had his work cut out for him.

While he’d been using the owl order service for his Christmas gifts for a few years now, it didn’t make the task of wrapping them any easier. He supposed that at least this year he wasn’t leaving it to the last minute. Usually he did his wrapping on Christmas Eve, as December was always a busy month for the Aurors and Harry was often stuck at the office. Being able to take his time was a novel experience and one he wasn’t about to take for granted.

Harry levitated the tree into position, spinning it mid-air so that the most even branches faced outwards. He would decorate it later, but this way the smell of pine could permeate the room. Now it felt like Christmas, he thought with satisfaction.

He slowly sorted through the boxes, putting anything that had arrived gift wrapped to one side before meticulously organising the rest. He didn’t want to wrap something only to later forget who it was intended for. Christmas with the Weasleys was chaotic enough.

He decided to wrap his gifts the muggle way this year, he had the time after all. There was something soothing about the process, the methodical technique to wrapping a book, the challenge of something soft or oddly shaped.

As he folded and taped, his mind wandered to Malfoy. There wasn’t anything he could to stop it. Seeing the man yesterday had given him a lot to think about, in more sense than one. He couldn’t deny the visceral reaction he’d had to Malfoy in his quidditch gear. Of course the man had looked phenomenally sexy, almost stereotypically so, with his leather and windswept hair making as if he'd stepped straight off the pages of one of Seamus’s dirty magazines. But seeing him like that had triggered something deep in Harry’s subconscious too, memories of schoolboy competition, memories tinged with frustration, that now, nearly twenty years on, Harry could accept were perhaps more complicated than a straightforward rivalry.

Then seeing him with Teddy had only added another layer of confusion. He’d never introduced any of his previous boyfriends to the boy, but now it felt different. He could picture dinners at Andromeda’s, quidditch in the autumn, waving goodbye when Teddy took the train back to school.

_Merlin he had it bad._

The realisation scared him a little. He wasn’t sure he’d felt like this before. There had been other men in his life, of course, but those relationships had been casual, transient, physical. This, this felt different. He recognised a bubble of nerves in his chest and took a moment to appreciate how different the sensation felt to the dread and anxiety he’d been carrying around with him for the past few years. Maybe Hermione was on to something with this whole thinking thing.

Although the downside of thinking about Malfoy was that he was now more than a little turned on. There was a warmth there that wasn’t entirely to do with the fire cracking merrily in the hearth. He cast a quick tempus to find that it wasn’t anywhere near dinner time.

He’d almost finished with the gifts, he could take a break.

He stood up from the floor and summoned a joint. He was already pretty relaxed, but he liked the mellow feeling that came with gillyweed. Living room or bedroom? Going upstairs seemed like a lot of effort, so he settled into the sofa, positioning himself so he was half propped up against the cushions.

He lit the joint, took a long drag, and slowly began touching himself through his jeans. A subtle warmth spread through his body and he sighed at the sensation. It would be better if Malfoy was here.

He pictured Malfoy arriving unexpectedly, catching Harry touching himself exactly as he was now. He imagined the wry smile, he imagined the man stalking towards him and straddling him. Fantasy Malfoy was silent, although Harry expected the man himself wouldn’t be able to resist making some sort of barbed comment.

Harry balanced the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table and opened his fly, hissing slightly as the warmth of his hand surrounded his cock. He closed his eyes, imagining it was Malfoy instead, imagining Malfoy’s hands stroking and twisting, imagining Malfoy’s teasing smile as he thumbed the tip.

Harry pushed his jeans and pants down to mid-thigh giving himself more space to pick up the pace. His free hand gently pulled on his balls as he imagined Malfoy pushing one hand in the centre of his chest, holding him down as he stroked him.

Harry groaned, he was close now. He felt that familiar hot pleasure slowly build in groin. His hips shifted automatically and every muscle in his body tensed before the pleasure crested and he came, spunk covering his hand and pubic hair.

As reality returned to him he realised that he’d just wanked over Malfoy in the middle of the day, surrounded by gifts for his friends and family. Perhaps he should stop being such a weirdo and tell the man how he feels.


	12. Chapter 12

**PROMPT: LARGE MANOR HOUSE**

For the first time in a long time Harry woke up smiling. He felt younger than he had in years, the time off work having done wonders for both his mind and body. He felt energetic and excited, although he was self-aware enough to know that his giddy optimism was in part due to his growing feelings for Malfoy. The start of a relationship was always exciting, he knew he wasn’t the first person to be swept up.

He summoned his trainers and decided to go for a jog. It was frosty outside, the trees sparkling in the soft morning light. He could see his breath in the air as he followed the canal east for a change. The run was a little tougher than he expected and he resolved to create some sort of exercise regime so that he didn’t lose all of this physical fitness.

Arriving back in Islington, he kicked off his shoes, set the coffee machine and drank a large glass of water. He filled up the glass again and placed it on the table. _The Prophet_ had arrived while he’d been out and he flicked through it absently as he waited for his espresso.

He was just about to walk over and collect his coffee when his eyes fell on a photo on the society pages. His good mood evaporated instantly.

There, at the top of the page, was a photo of Malfoy outside of a large residential property. The headline informed him that it was from a charity event that had taken place the night before. That didn’t bother him. What bothered him was who Malfoy was with. On Malfoy’s arm was a tall brunette who Harry vaguely recognised from the Scottish quidditch league, Rory something. The man was leaning into Malfoy slightly, and they were both smiling for the camera. Malfoy turned to say something to Rory who then playfully pushed Malfoy. Harry watched the loop three times before he realised that the corner of the page was smoking.

He vanished the paper in frustration and was left staring at the now empty table. Fucking Malfoy. Once a bastard always a bastard it seemed. Harry was furious. It had only been four days since Malfoy had rimmed him with an inch of his life and now he’s taking some other guy out? _Next time_ he’d said, fucking next time! Had he gone off the idea now he had this floozy no doubt throwing himself at his feet? Merlin their world was so small, someone new on the scene and all the gays suddenly start preening.

The smell of burning coffee roused him from his thoughts. Now he’d fucking burned his coffee! “Well fuck you very much Malfoy.” he snarled out loud, wandlessly vanishing the whole fucking coffee machine. This was what he gets for fucking thinking, Harry thought bitterly. He spends a few days collecting his thoughts and misses his fucking chance. He’d always been fine trusting his gut. He defeated Voldemort hadn’t he? He should never have listened to Hermione.

He was still standing in his kitchen seething with rage when he heard the floo flare to life. He cast a tempus, confused. Who the hell was turning up at his house at half nine on a Monday morning? If it was fucking Malfoy-

He stormed into the living room and was met with the sight of Ron carrying Hugo on his hip, Rose holding his free hand.

“Alright mate! The kids are off nursery now and it’s my day to look after them. I thought you might be up for a bit of an impromptu playdate?”

Harry just stood there.

“Daddy, why is Uncle Harry all sweaty?” Rose asked loudly.

Her little voice snapped him out of his malaise. It wouldn’t be fair on her to be moody now. He bent down to her level. “Because Ro Ro, Uncle Harry went for a run outside and he still needs to have a shower.”

He looked back up at Ron. “Course I’m keen for a playdate.” He pretended to try and tickle Rose and she squirmed out of the way, hiding beyond Ron. “I can’t leave my two favourite munchkins without a playmate today can I?” he peered around Ron’s legs and Rose ran behind the sofa.

He stood up and was met with a quizzical expression. “You sure you’re alright?” Ron asked. When had he become so intuitive.

“Yeh.” Harry replied. “Just, I think my S-H-I-T-T-Y life is back to normal.” he spelled out.

“What happened?” Ron asked, putting Hugo down who immediately tottered off after his sister.

“It’s nothing.” Harry sighed.

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Sure mate.” He reached into his pocket and unshrunk a few toys for the kids. “Go and shower. Then you’re coming back down and telling me what’s going on. No arguments.”

\---

Harry arrived back downstairs a short while later to find Rose quietly colouring and Hugo playing with a unicorn toy. Harry left them to it and headed to the kitchen.

“Sit.” Ron said, pointing at the table. There was a cup of tea waiting for him. “I made tea. I could have sworn you had a coffee machine before?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah err, I did. I maybe err vanished it. This morning.”

Ron looked very unimpressed. “What’s going on mate?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Malfoy’s dating someone else.”

“You what?” Ron asked.

“I saw a picture in the paper this morning. He was at some fancy event last night with that Scottish quidditch player. Rory something. They were all over each other.”

“Rory Rankin.”

“Yeh whoever. I don’t care.” Harry snapped.

“Harry, it seems like you do care.”

Harry could feel his frustration growing again, but then Rose came in, eyeing them both cautiously. “Daddy can I show you my drawing now?” she asked.

“Daddy and Uncle Harry are just talking sweetie. Why don’t you go and play with Hugo for a bit. We won’t be long.”

“Hugo is boring!” she replied stubbornly.

“Rose Weasley that is not a very nice thing to say. Now go and play with your brother. I’ll be there in a minute.” He looked at her, eyebrows raised until she turned and left the room again.

“You’re speaking to me like you’re speaking to your daughter!” Harry joked.

“Yeh well, sometimes you need a kick up the arse mate.” Ron shot back. “I didn’t realise you and Malfoy were official.”

Harry’s smile faded. “We weren’t. I just-” he paused. “I think I quite like him Ron.”

“Mmhmm.” Ron replied. “Drink your tea.” Harry took a sip. “Does Malfoy know you quite like him?” he enquired.

“What kind of question is that Ron? Yes. He was literally round her the other night! Four nights ago in fact! And then he has time to turn around and fuck some other random quidditch player.” How was Ron not more angry? He hated Malfoy even more than he did when they were at school.

“Let me rephrase that.” Ron replied calmly. “Does Malfoy know you quite like him as a person or might he instead think you just quite like his cock every now and again?”

Harry almost spat out the tea he’d just drunk. “I don’t know, why can’t it be both?”

“Of course it can.” Ron nodded. “But have you actually told him? I was under the impression the two times you’ve seen each other in the last five years were, how can I say this, a drunken hookup and a booty call?” He looked at Harry sternly.

Harry didn’t reply. The man had a point he supposed. They hadn’t exactly spoken much.

“But that’s how I know I like him.” Harry insisted. “We barely spoke and we just had this, Merlin this is going to sound so cliché, we had this _connection_.”

“Uh huh.” Ron agreed. “And does Malfoy feel the same?”

“He was there. It was really good. He said it was really good!”

“Uh huh.” Ron repeated. “And did you have a conversation about it?”

Harry was silent.

“Right.” Ron continued. “So you’re telling me that you pulled a guy on a night out, asked him over a couple of nights later, you barely talked, and now you’re upset because he's been photographed standing next to another man?”

“We knew each other at school!” Harry protested.

“Oh sorry, you shagged him a couple of times and you knew him nearly fifteen years ago.” Ron teased.

"Also they definitely did more than just go to that event together. You can just tell." Harry said petulantly.

"Okay. And even if that were the case, had you and Malfoy talked about going exclusive?"

"No, but-"

"Harry." Ron interrupted. "You need to calm down."

Harry sighed.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but it sounds like you need to ask Malfoy out. Like you said, he was here four days ago. For all you know Malfoy arrived at the same time as Rory and then decided to take the photo together for fun."

"Maybe." Harry relented.

"Not maybe. Yes." Ron corrected.

"Okay yes." Harry replied. He supposed there was no harm in it. The worst that could happen was that he'd lose a potentially good fuck buddy, really. But if Malfoy said yes… Harry felt a small grin tug the corners of his lips.

"That's more like it mate!"

If this went wrong he was blaming Ron.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always - all mistakes my own! Thanks for making it this far - Harry's getting there!

**PROMPT: MULLED WINE**

“Harry!” Teddy’s voice echoed through the house. “Harry I’m here!”

“I’m in the study.” Harry called back, surveying the mess in front of him. His desk was covered in crumpled pieces of parchment, each a discarded attempt at a letter to Malfoy. Artimus was perched close by looking mildly annoyed at the amount of time she’d been waiting.

“What are you doing?” Teddy appeared at his side, his hair a bright cobalt blue today.

Harry sighed. He’d never hidden his sexuality from Teddy, but so far he’d avoided mixing his godfatherly duties with his love life. He’d always intended to introduce the boy to his partner once he found himself in a stable relationship, but the truth of the matter was, well, he’d simply never got that far. No one had ever been in his life long enough for Harry to even consider it. But this time was going to have to be different. Teddy already knew Malfoy and Harry wasn’t prepared to hide this from him. If it didn’t work out, Harry was just going to have to cross that bridge when he got there.

“I’m trying to write a letter Teddy.” He turned to look at the teenager. “I’m, umm, I’m trying to ask Malfoy out on a date.” He held his breath. He hadn’t exactly planned what he’d say if Teddy didn’t like the idea.

“You mean Draco?” Teddy asked. His voice sounded normal so Harry allowed himself to relax slightly.

“Yes, I mean D-Draco.” _Merlin that was weird to say out loud._ “Do you mind?” Harry asked hopefully.

“It makes sense.” Teddy replied after a moment. “You’re both the same age, you’re both gay.” A sly smile lit up his face. “And he’s _good-looking_. Some of the girls have posters of him in their dorm. One of the girls in my potion’s class told me when everyone found out he was my cousin.”

Teddy reached for the closest letter and started to flatten it out before Harry snatched it from him, blushing. He did not need his fourteen year old godson reading what he’d written so far.

“You fancy him!” Teddy teased. “You _like_ him!”

“Yes yes very funny. Are you ready to go? I can finish this later.” Harry vanished the failed attempts.

“Yeh I’m ready. My rucksack is by the door.” Teddy replied. “But I think you should finish this now. What if _Draco_ is waiting for you?”

“No it’s okay Ted. I’ve been at this for an hour already, let’s just head out.”

“An hour!?” Teddy exclaimed. “I’m trying to be nice to you Harry but that’s really pathetic.” He grabbed a blank piece of parchment and Harry’s quill. Harry watched him with faint amusement as Teddy took a moment to think before writing _Dear Draco. Harry wasn’t sure what to write so I decided to take over. Will you go out with him soon?_

He paused to look up at Harry. “Can I say that you fancy him?” He asked, eyes glinting.

“No!” Harry said. “I mean, I err, I do, err, fancy him.” Harry managed to get out. “But you can’t write that!”

Teddy sighed dramatically. “Okay then, if you must.” He turned back to the page and finished with _Send an owl back to let him know. From Teddy Lupin_ then gave the parchment to Harry. “Send that. It’s probably better than what you had."

Harry wanted to disagree with him but the boy wasn’t wrong, he hadn’t got anywhere so far. It was unconventional, sure, but maybe Malfoy would appreciate it. He nodded, digging out an envelope. “Okay Lupin, you’ve got your way. Now go get your things together so you're ready to head out!”

\---

Every year in the run up to Christmas Harry and Teddy spent a day in muggle London together. Harry had initially chosen muggle London to steer clear of Diagon Alley in the years immediately following the war, back when the crowds of people swarming around him made him fear for Teddy’s safety. Today strangers in the wizarding world were more of an annoyance than anything more sinister, but the tradition had stuck. When Teddy was younger they’d visited the museums, spent hours in Hamley’s and visited the different Christmas lights dotted around the capital. Now he was a teenager, their time seemed to mostly be spent in shops selling clothes or trainers.

Harry was trying to focus on Teddy, he really was, but today his stomach was in knots. Had it been too much sending Teddy’s letter? Should he have waited until later in the day? Was Ron wrong and was he going to be let down gently in favour of Scotland’s latest quidditch star?

“Can I borrow your debit card Harry?”

“Huh?” Harry said. Teddy was looking at him, face a picture of innocence.

“I want to get these ones.” Teddy explained, pointing at the pair of shoes he was holding.

“You want to get those ones, please.” Harry corrected. “And no you can’t just have my debit card, if you want to spend your allowance you have to ask.”

“I thought I’d give it a try, you looked like you were on another planet. Were you thinking about _Dracooo_?”

Harry remained silent but he strongly suspected that his blush was giving him away.

“Are you going to be allowed to wear these at school?” he asked, eyeing the shoes sceptically. Harry strongly suspected that the gleaming white trainers did not meet the Hogwarts uniform requirements.

“I’ll only wear them at the weekend.” Teddy tried, in lieu of an answer.

Harry sighed. That was probably the best he was going to get. He’d always struggled saying no to his godson. “Okay, but don’t even think about wearing them to potions, you’ll ruin them”

“Thanks so much Harry, you’re the best!”

“Yeh yeh Teddy, you’re welcome. But if I receive one letter home about you wearing them to class then I’ll be up to Hogwarts to collect them myself faster than you can say the words Hungarian Horntail.”

Teddy put the shoes back in their box, looking around to make sure they hadn’t left anything. “Okay let's go and buy these, and then I’d like to get a hot chocolate and you can get a mulled wine or something grown up to take your mind off Draco. I’m sure he’ll reply.”

Harry nodded, allowing himself to be dragged along by Teddy’s enthusiasm. Not for the first time he wondered just when the baby he’d held in his arms had grown up.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the the delay. I've been kinda ill, but I promise I will catch up just as soon as I'm feeling more alive :)

**PROMPT: GINGERBREAD MEN**

Harry came downstairs the next morning to find not one, but two regal looking owls waiting patiently in his kitchen. He approached them cautiously, butterflies building in his stomach. He didn’t know what kind of Malfoy owned these days, but if he’d had to guess, he would have described one similar to either of the birds in front of him. So why were there two?

He untied both letters and watched as both owls neatly unfurled their wings ready to leave. He wandlessly spelled the door open for them before pulling out a chair.

Both letters were of similar size, with no discernible identifying features. He’d had extensive wards in place since just after the war so he wasn’t concerned that either could be suspicious or dangerous, but he was curious as to who might be writing to him.

He cracked the first seal. The letter contained just one line.

_I will be attending Luna’s winter garden party tomorrow. If I see you there, you can ask me out yourself. DM_

Harry read the letter twice more before a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Malfoy hadn’t said no! And he was going to see him tomorrow! In fairness, he hadn’t said yes either but Harry expected that he’d be able to persuade him. He smoothed the letter out, following Malfoy’s tight cursive handwriting with his finger. Merlin he hadn’t felt this excited for a date in years. Where were they going to go? What was he going to wear!? He needed help! His friends regularly teased him that he’d somehow missed out on the ‘being able to dress himself’ part of being gay. Harry liked to make them feel bad for stereotyping, but he did agree that he didn’t have the best fashion sense. His general approach to date outfits was to wear the tightest jeans he owned and hope for the best.

Harry was mentally cataloguing the outfits in his wardrobe upstairs when the seal on the second letter caught his eye. It looked like the Hogwarts seal. He put down Malfoy’s reply and opened the second letter. Why was he receiving a letter from Hogwarts? His first thought was to Teddy, but he’d seen his godson yesterday and nothing had been said then. Thoroughly confused, he started reading.

_Mr Potter,_

_It has come to my attention that you are embarking on a new career path._

Harry could hear her crisp Scottish accent in his head as he read. Trust McGonagall to send such a formal letter. He imagined her wry smile as she wrote the words ‘embarking on a new career path’. There was no doubt that she had heard of his less than professional exit from the Aurors.

_As you may be aware, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry seeks to hire experienced witches and wizards from across Britain’s magical disciplines. I would therefore like to invite you to a meeting to discuss potential opportunities._

_Kind regards,_

_Headmistress McGonagall_

Well, this was unexpected. He felt a flash of momentary guilt that in all his daydreaming about Malfoy he’d not really given any thought to what he might do for work now that he’d quit the Aurors. Given all the Christmas gatherings and days out the last two weeks had felt more like a holiday than permanent unemployment. He definitely needed coffee to get through this development.

Harry was halfway across his kitchen before he realised that he still didn’t have a coffee machine. He sighed. Since his catch up with Hermione he’d done so well thinking through his chaotic life by himself, but now, with a date from Malfoy on the cards, potential job offer, and no coffee, well, this time he didn’t think he could do it alone.

\---

“Honestly Hermione, I’ve been thinking about stuff loads since our last coffee, but I don’t think I’m ready for this kind of situation!” He looked up at Hermione from his seat at her kitchen table as she finished preparing their drinks.

Hermione smiled. “Well aren’t you lucky that I’m not in the office today.” A final flourish of her wand and the warm frothy milk topped up their mugs. She levitated a cappuccino in front of him and he nodded in thanks as she picked up a box of gingerbread men from the side. “Okay.” She sat down. “We have drinks and snacks. What do you want to cover first, McGonagall’s letter or Malfoy’s?”

Harry smiled. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you Mione?” he asked. “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count and you still have time to help me with boys, and when I quit my job in a temper without a plan for what to do next.”

“I already made you a coffee Harry. Less of the compliments and more of you telling me what’s going on in your head. Hugo’s probably only got another thirty minutes left of his nap and I have to collect Rose from Molly’s at three.” 

Harry smiled at her no nonsense attitude. Since becoming a mother she’d managed to become, if possible, even better at being productive with short amounts of time. He didn’t know how she did it. “Right, okay. Let’s start with McGonagall.” He paused, realising that he had absolutely no idea where to start. “Just, help?” he asked pleadingly.

She looked at him.

“Umm. What would you do?” he tried.

“Harry.” she warned.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Just, I don’t understand. Does she want to hire me? Do they even have any positions open at the moment? Why didn’t she mention a subject? Am I not a bit young to be a teacher? Would it be weird if I have to teach Teddy? Is that even allowed?” What if-”

“Just breathe Harry.” Hermione interrupted. She was smiling slightly.

He took a deep breath.

“This is why I need your help!”

“I don’t know if it’s my help you need.” she replied. “You have a lot of questions, and I don’t have many of the answers. I think you know someone who would know the answers though.” 

Harry looked at her blankly.

“Who might have an idea whether they have any teaching positions open at Hogwarts at the moment?” she prompted.

“Umm. McGonagall?”

“Bingo.”

“Huh?” He didn’t know what she was getting at here. ‘Know-it-all Hermione’ had evolved to ‘empowering you to find your own answers Hermione’ and sometimes he missed just being pointed in the right direction. He remembered it being a lot easier.

“Harry. You have lots of questions. Do you not think McGonagall might have already thought of this, which might be why she invited you to Scotland to talk?”

“But I don’t know if I want to teach. I’ve never even thought about it!” Actually that wasn’t completely untrue. He’d considered it for a while after the war, back when Dumbledore’s Army was still fresh in his mind. But then he’d joined the Aurors and well, the rest was history.

“I don’t anticipate that McGonagall expects you to turn up to a meeting with her with a full year of classes already scheduled, Harry.” she replied dryly. “She’ll want to hear your questions.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee. “When I told you to take time to think about things Harry, I didn’t mean for you to always think about them by yourself. Part of taking time to think is taking time to talk things through.”

“So I should meet with her?” he asked.

“I think you should meet with her.” she confirmed. “Take the questions you just asked me and put them to her. And if you don’t know what to do after that, meet with her again and ask more questions.” 

“Huh. It sounds so simple when you put it like that.” This really had come out of nowhere. He couldn’t picture himself in front of a classroom of kids. He’d been an Auror for so long. As much as he’d hated it, he’d been good at it, he’d known what was expected of him. “Do you think I’d be any good?”

“At teaching?”

“Yeh.”

She took a moment before replying. “I think you’d be fantastic Harry, but that doesn’t mean I think you should do it.” She paused. “You should only do it if you think it will make you happy, because it definitely won’t be easy. But if you think you want to do it, then I know you’ll be fantastic.”

He couldn’t really picture it yet, but Hogwarts was one of the places he loved most in the world. It was definitely worth considering.

“Okay, I’ll meet with her.”

“Good. I think you should.” She picked up his empty mug and placed them on the side. “Now, tell me what happened with Malfoy?”  



	15. Chapter 15

**PROMPT: WINTERY GARDEN WITH SPHERES OF COLOURED LIGHTS**

Luna didn’t host a Christmas event every year, but when she did, Harry always thought she did it well. Usually there was good food, good friends, and just enough of the unexpected to keep things from feeling dry. Her events could always be described as unique which Harry felt was a welcome change to the circuit of parties and galas that usually took place at this time of year.

Her party this year was no different. Despite the freezing temperatures, it was taking place outside. On arrival, all guests were given a pebble with a warming charm of Luna’s own creation. Not only did it keep each guest toasty as they stood in the garden, but when you began a conversation with someone else the two charms apparently merged to create a larger warming bubble. Luna had informed Harry that this was to encourage, in her words, _canoodling_. He’d just nodded in a slightly dumbfounded way when she asked him to let her know how well it worked.

She’d decorated her extensive garden with fairy lights of all different colours. They were strung between trees, they adorned the giant fir tree off to one side, and they clustered together in large spheres hovering just above the grass. Altogether it gave the garden a pleasant glow, even Harry privately thought that from a distance it looked a little bit like the Blackpool Illuminations.

The only downside he could see was that although the air temperature was a comfortable twenty four degrees, they were still standing outside on the grass in December. It didn’t affect him too much but as he watched Hermione try and navigate back to where he was standing, he did feel a little sorry for anyone wearing high shoes. She was levitating their drinks and walking on tiptoes to avoid her heels sinking into the grass.

As she neared, he conjured a small square of pine for her to stand on.

“My hero!” She handed him his mulled wine. “I’m telling you, maintaining a levitation charm when you’re trying not to fall flat on your face is more difficult than it looks!”

He laughed. “If you found it difficult then there’s no hope for the rest of us mere mortals.” He blew across the top of his mug and breathed in the familiar citrusy sweet aroma, hints of star anise and cloves tingling his nose. “Is Ron here yet? I feel like I haven’t spoken to you both together in ages.”

“I think I just saw him arrive. He was chatting to Rolf. I’m sure he’ll be over in a bit, you know how he is at these events, using us as human shields against people he doesn’t want to talk to. A bit like you actually.” she remarked.

Harry chuckled. “You’ve found me out. How do you think I normally get through parties?”

“Not tonight though, I heard you were _meeting_ someone.” she teased.

He adjusted his bowtie nervously. He hadn’t seen Malfoy arrive yet.

“Stop messing with it, you look great.” Hermione chastised. “Just leave everything as it is.”

She’d help him settle on a midnight blue tuxedo, even arriving at his early to help him with the tailoring charms. She’d just raised her eyebrows knowingly when he’d asked her to spell it a bit tighter over his arse.

“Oi Harry mate, looking fly!” Ron handed him another mulled wine and leaned in to kiss Hermione. “The queue for drinks was pretty long so I got us all another round.”

“I was just telling Harry here to keep his hands off his suit if he wants to impress Malfoy.”

Ron laughed. “Yeh I bet Malfoy would be able to spot a wonky bowtie from half a mile off.”

Harry laughed. “I’m sure. I’ll try to stay presentable. I have Hermione to thank, she styled me tonight.”

Ron kissed her again. “My talented wife. You look stunning by the way darling.” He cupped one of her pendent earrings gently. “Are these the ones I got you for your birthday?”

“I’m so glad you remembered darling.” she teased.

“Oh stop it you two, you have company.” Harry said, taking another sip of his drink.

“Mate, I know that you haven’t seen just the two of us in a while, but we also haven’t seen just the two of us without the kids for, I don’t know, about four months, so maybe you need to stop third-wheeling us!” Ron joked.

“Alright alright. I get it. I’ll make myself scarce!”

“No you don’t need to go Harry.” Hermione pulled on his arm.

“Actually, I think I spot the person I’m here to see. I’m ditching you, wish me luck!”

He actually hadn’t seen Malfoy yet, but they were right, they needed their own time to catch up. Though as luck would have it, by the time he made himself over to the makeshift bar he noticed Malfoy arriving. He looked stunning as always, almost dangerously good looking in a black velvet tuxedo. It should have washed him out, but instead the contrast made him look very sexy indeed. Harry gambled and ordered him an elf made wine, then, taking a deep breath, he made for where Malfoy was just finishing up with Luna.

“Hi.” Harry said, a little breathlessly. “You made it.”

“Potter.” He was smiling. “You don’t waste any time do you.” He took the proffered drink. “I think I might have arrived less than a minute ago.”

Harry shrugged. “I saw you arrive. Ron and Hermione needed some _alone time_.”

Malfoy laughed. “Aren’t they married? Don’t they see each other all the time?”

“They have two kids.”

“Ah, well in that case.” He raised his glass. “To _alone time_ , away from the children.” he toasted. Their eyes met and Harry felt himself blush.

“Good choice on the wine by the way. I like this vintage. Elf made wine is always excellent but some years it is truly magnificent.”

“I’m sure you would have sent me back if I’d chosen wrong.” Harry responded.

Malfoy barked out a laugh and Harry felt his toes warm at the sound. “Rather.”

“Were you training today?” Harry asked. “It was nice weather for flying, when the sun was out at least.”

“Yes I was. Only in the morning though. We usually have matches in the evenings on Wednesdays but this week is a slip week.”

“Ah that makes sense. I realise that I didn’t quite get round to asking you about how it was all going the last time we met.”

Malfoy grinned, looking Harry up and down shamelessly. “Quite.” Harry desperately hoped that his lapel was even.

“It’s going quite well, thank you for asking.” Malfoy continued. “The training style is a little more intense than I’m used to, and it’s considerably colder than it usually is in Nice at this time of year, but the team is friendly. They’ve been very welcoming really.”

“You sound surprised.”

Malfoy looked at him, expression piercing. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you of all people, that I was a little, how to put this, _apprehensive_ , about returning to the UK. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that I didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

“Right. Of course.” Harry stuttered. “I just mean, it’s been a while, right? Don’t most people know you for quidditch now? Your face is all over the European league. Ron’s been telling anyone who’ll listen to place bets on the Falcon’s since they signed you.”

Malfoy smiled. “Tell Weasley I’ll buy him a beer.” He took a sip of his drink and Harry watched him swallow. Merlin his was hot. “You’re right, and I did say the team had been welcoming.” He paused. “It doesn’t hurt to be cautious though.”

Harry nodded.

“What about you though. How’s your life of leisure treating you? Mimosas in your pyjamas?”

“Ha not quite. I think I’ve spent more time with Teddy and Rose and Hugo than I have in the past year put together. Hermione’s kids.” he added, on seeing Malfoy’s confused expression.

“So am I to believe that you’ve left a life of catching Britain’s most dangerous criminals-” Malfoy paused dramatically. “-for babysitting?”

“Pretty much.” Harry smiled. “How the mighty have fallen.”

“Indeed. I can see why you had Teddy send me a note then, if you’ve been constantly surrounded by children. You’ve probably realised that they already have neater handwriting than you.”

“Funny.” Harry replied sarcastically. “No, Teddy wanted to write it. We were spending the day together and my, let’s say, lack of letter writing was making us late. Actually, that reminds me. Andromeda suggested you and I might want to take him flying? I’m buying him a broom for Christmas, and she said you might have a few that he can try to get a feel for the style he likes?”

“Andromeda suggested you and I take Teddy out, together?” Malfoy questioned.

Harry coughed. “I’m not sure if she was aware of our-” He paused. “- _involvement_.”

“Indeed. I’m sure it’ll work, but we can talk about it on the way to the bar. I need another drink.”

As the evening wore on, Harry felt himself falling more and more for the man. Yes they had physical chemistry, and yes there was this playful banter between them, but as they talked more about their life, their careers, their families, Harry found even more he liked about the man.

He learned that Malfoy was determined and committed in a way that Harry genuinely admired, and he had a dry sense of humour which Harry enjoyed immensely. He’d also learned that Malfoy was a surprisingly tactile person. He was constantly touching Harry on the arm to make a point, steering him slightly at the waist as they moved in and of larger conversations, and at one point, there was a reassuring hand on his lower back as someone Harry didn’t know got a little too opinionated on the topic of Harry’s departure from the Aurors.

He was polite and engaging with Hermione, he shared quidditch gossip with Ron, and, although Harry expected it had made the man feel extremely uncomfortable, he’d even apologised to Ron and Hermione briefly about his involvement during the war. He’d acknowledged that he owed them a rather longer conversation than the one they were having, and asked that they not decide then and there whether they forgave him, but that perhaps they could speak again soon, all of which Harry quite respected.

As the night began to draw to a close Harry found himself wishing for a time turner, for just a few more minutes with the man.

Malfoy had walked them down to the end of the garden, ostensibly to show him some constellation or other, but when they’d arrived he’d left a hand on Harry’s hip and very obviously stepped into Harry's personal space. Harry’s heart was racing as he looked up at the taller man.

“I believe you had a question to ask me?” Malfoy said, and Harry felt the whisper of breath on his cheek. The glow from the lights was illuminating Malfoy’s pale face, and his eyes were sparkling.

“Ah, I guess I didn’t yet.” Harry cleared his throat, his voice sounding too loud in the quiet away from the rest of the guests. “I wondered, umm, I wondered if you were free for me to take you out some time?” he asked. He didn’t expect Malfoy to say no, they’d been flirting all night after all, but even so, it felt like he could hear his own heart beating as Malfoy stared down back at him.

They were so close, Malfoy’s other hand now resting on the small of Harry’s back. Then, in lieu of an answer, Malfoy was kissing him. It was a deep, open-mouthed kiss that made Harry’s stomach swoop and his knees feel weak. It was hot and wet and fantastic and overwhelming all at once, and Harry felt himself kissing back before he even had time to consciously process what was happening. Malfoy pressed a leg between Harry’s thighs and Harry groaned. He deepened the kiss, touching Malfoy’s tongue with his own. He heard the other man sigh but then Malfoy was pulling away, biting Harry’s lip gently before placing a kiss on his cheek and standing back.

“Pick me up after training at seven tomorrow.” he said, and with that he was striding back towards the house leaving Harry with a rather noticeable problem to deal with.

Seven, tomorrow, Harry thought with a grin. He could wait until then.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I'm so behind. I've been really ill. There's no way I'm giving up on this though. Thank you for sticking with me!

**PROMPT: FOUR PAIRS OF CHRISTMAS SOCKS**

As usual, Harry was running out of time. You’d think that with no job and a limited wardrobe that he’d be better prepared. But no, somehow he’d wasted the morning pottering around the kitchen, meaning that he made lunch quite late, which had been fine until he’d decided to spend over an hour in the bath. Now it was almost four in the afternoon and he had less than an hour to drop presents off at Ron and Hermione’s before apparating to the Falcon’s stadium.  
  
“Uncle Harry!” Rose shouted as he tumbled through the floo into their living room. They were in the middle of watching a film, all four of them snuggled up on the sofa.  
  
“Hi Rose.” Harry replied, taking in the scene in front of him. “You guys look adorable. Are you wearing matching Christmas socks?”  
  
Ron groaned. “Mum sent them. She must have knitted them in June! I was planning to get a photo of us all wearing them all just to keep her happy but it turns out that they’re quite cosy.” he admitted. “I think she knitted warming charms into them.”   
  
“Uncle Harry Uncle Harry, are you staying to watch the film with us?” Rose asked, excitedly. 

“‘Fraid not kiddo. I’m just dropping these off-” he held up the presents “-and then I’ve got to get going.”

Hermione looked at her watch. “You better. I did not spend all that time counselling you on your dating prospects only for you to keep him waiting!”

“And me!” Ron chipped in. “I think I must have staged about three interventions this month alone!”

“Not three!” Harry protested. “One, maybe.” 

Ron raised his eyebrows.

“Okay okay maybe two.”

Ron continued to stare at him, eyebrows raised. “Have you replaced your coffee machine yet Harry? “ he asked pointedly. 

Harry did not reply.

“Did I not tell you that your little tantrum was an overreaction? Remind me what Malfoy said last night?” Ron tried to imitate Malfoy’s drawl. “Who, Rory? We simply arrived at the same moment. He’s not my type.”

“Alright alright!” Harry protested. “I’m incredibly lucky to have you both in my life, and Ron, I need all the interventions I can get. Happy now?” 

Ron looked smug. “Let your new coffee machine be a monument to your stupidity.” 

“Alright, enough, leave him be.” Hermione admonished, pulling Hugo back onto her lap from where he’d been trying to lean over the arm of the sofa. “Have fun on your date!”

\---

Harry arrived outside of the Falcon’s stadium with ten minutes to spare. It was unassuming from where he stood, but Harry knew from experience that the wizarding space inside seated thousands of fans. It felt a little creepy being here on a Thursday with no one around apart from the occasional grounds staff, but he made his way through the main entrance to the pitch without much bother. 

The team looked like they were just finishing a cool down, flying broad loops in formation, no doubt to loosen out sore muscles. He saw Malfoy before Malfoy noticed him, so took time to admire his form. He’d always been a good flier at school, but the years spent training and competing had honed his skills and Harry was sure that he’d have no chance against him in a match now.

The team landed and dismounted and Harry saw Malfoy scan the stands as he packed up his broom. He nodded once when his eye’s found Harry and Harry waved. Should he go down?

His question was answered for him as a crow patronus landed gracefully on the barrier in front of his seat and told him to wait by the main entrance. He wasn’t sure why but the crow suited Malfoy. On some level he’d expected something big and intimidating, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It could fly for one, and stood tall and majestic despite people’s mistrust. 

He pondered this new Malfoy as he made his way down through the stands. Well, he wasn’t necessarily new, just new to Harry. He was examining the Falcon’s trophy cabinet when Malfoy appeared, hair still slightly damp from the shower.

“On time. Well colour me impressed Potter.” Malfoy drawled, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

Harry tried and failed to fight his body’s natural response to blush. This was happening way too often.

“It wasn’t hard to find.” he replied. “Also, the security at this place is terrible. I just walked right in, and I couldn’t only feel very basic wards. Nothing that felt like it would dissuade malicious intent at least, just your usual muggle-repelling stuff.”

Malfoy was looking at him curiously. “You can feel the difference between different types of wards?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Umm. Yeah? They’re sort of-” he paused, now he thought about it, he had no idea how to describe it, “-metallic, I guess?” 

Malfoy laughed. “Trust you to have a natural intuition for something it takes most people years to learn. You should start your own security consultancy, maybe the Falcon’s could be your first client.”

That actually was quite an interesting idea. Apart from Hermione telling him to talk to McGonagall, he hadn’t really spoken to any of his friends about what he might do next. Malfoy was actually on the money. Harry thought that he might quite like the freedom of picking and choosing his own clients.

“I’ll think about it. I hadn’t really thought of doing something like that before.” He put his hands in the pockets of his coat. “McGonagall wrote to me about teaching, so that’s the only thing I’ve considered so far. But I’m taking my time.”

“Good.” Malfoy replied. “It sounds like you dived into the Aurors with no consideration about what you actually wanted to do. You should take all the time in the world, it’s not like you're short of money.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re right. And I am trying to think things through properly, this time.”

“You can tell me about it over dinner. I’m starving.” Malfoy held out his arm for Harry to apparate them. 

Harry smiled. He quite liked the dynamic between them. Malfoy was confident, pushy even, but at the same time he gave Harry the space to lead. There was no mistaking that the man was a top, but Harry felt empowered rather than overshadowed. He liked it. He’d been frustrated in relationships before where the other person had simply assumed that he was generally more submissive, just because he bottomed in bed. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to strike a good balance. 

“Shall we?” Harry asked.

\---

Harry had chosen a small muggle place tucked around the back of the financial district. It wasn’t fine dining per se, but the food was delicious and the restaurant’s focus on lots of small sharing plates made it perfect for a date. They shared a bottle of wine, and Malfoy seemingly took great delight in explaining to Harry the delicate flavour balances in each plate.

“Are you having a nice evening?” Malfoy asked him after the main course had been cleared.

“I am.” Harry replied. “Very much so.” He paused to shake out his napkin before refolding it across his lap. “Are you?”

“Of course.” Malfoy replied, a touch of humour in his voice. “Do you not believe me?” he asked at Harry’s slightly narrowed eyes.

“I do believe you.” he replied. “I just-” he paused. “-I guess I can’t work out why you’re interested.” Ordinarily this wouldn’t have mattered to him, the man opposite was hot, he was good in bed, and he had a good sense of humour after all, but for the first time in his life Harry found himself considering their compatibility beyond the physical.

Malfoy looked at him, a calculating expression on his face. “I’d say you were fishing, but you actually want to know, don’t you?”

Harry nodded.

Malfoy took a moment to take a sip of wine. “Honestly, there’s always been something that has intrigued me when it comes to you. You have this _energy_ which in all my travels I’ve found is a rarity. You’re committed to your friends and family, which I respect. And, while I can’t be sure yet, I thought that we had a-” he paused “-a connection when we spoke at the gala.”

“I felt that too.”

Malfoy sighed. “I know we don’t have the most straightforward past.”

He looked like he had something else to say, but Harry wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear it tonight. Soon, yes. But maybe not tonight. “I thought that perhaps you were only interested in hooking up?” Harry asked. “You seemed quite keen on leaving my flat last week.”

“Last week _was_ a hooking up, Potter. Forgive me, but you’d just quit your job and you’d been dumped, I didn’t expect that you were looking for much more than a rebound. I saw you scanning the dancefloor that night, don’t pretend you weren’t. I thought that if you weren’t going home alone, then I should at least offer. After all, you were the one that agreed.”

“I mean, I’m not blind.” Harry laughed. “And what about now?”

“Oh I’m still interested in hooking up.” Draco stared intently into Harry’s eyes and Harry felt like he was being undressed then and there. Did they really have to stay for dessert? But then Malfoy was pulling back slightly, taking time to refold his own napkin.

Harry looked at him quizzically.

“This is a date, Potter. If not taking this further now. Unless blowing me in the toilets in your idea of a classy evening?”

Harry nearly spat out his wine as he tried desperately to pull his mind out of the gutter. Picturing Malfoy, flies open, pushing Harry to his knees, was not helping. “No, you’re right. I want to do this properly."

Malfoy raised his glass in agreement. “I’m not saying that I won’t take you home. But I don’t fuck on the first date.

“We literally slept together last week!” Harry exclaimed.

“And last week we were hooking up, now we’re on a date.” Malfoy finished his wine with a flourish. “Now, would you like dessert?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay! I'm off work now through, and feeling loads better. This story is probably going to run past the 25th though!

**PROMPT: STAG ICE SCULPTURE**

“So wait, you’re telling me that you _didn’t_ sleep together?” Ron asked as he levitated two mugs towards the table.

“Nope.” Harry replied. “We actually talked, like all evening. He kissed me goodnight outside the restaurant, but no tongues.”

“Huh.” Ron contemplated. “I just kinda assumed he’d be up for it. I mean, you already slept together.”

“I know right!” 

“Maybe it’s like he said, he wants to date you. That’s what you want anyway, isn’t it?”

Harry slunk lower in his chair. “I know I know, just-” he sighed “-he’s just so goddamn hot. Do you know how hard it is to sit opposite that man and not think about going home with him?”

Ron waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh ha ha very funny.”

“So what did you talk about?” Ron asked. “He actually seemed pretty decent the other night, like he’s really changed. Did you talk about school?”

“A little.” Harry replied. And that was the truth. Towards the end of the meal they’d had their first stilted conversation about the war, the almost-finished bottle of wine giving them both the liquid courage they’d needed. Malfoy had mentioned conversationally that he’d tried his first glass of wine with Snape, which had led to a surprisingly respectful conversation about the man. Malfoy had given Harry the space to talk through his mixed feelings, and Harry had stayed quiet as Malfoy expressed his sadness at how things had ended up. They’d actually ended up toasting the man’s memory. It had been a sobering but poignant moment.

“That’s good.” Ron said.

“Yeh I think so. Hogwarts was a long time ago, but I don’t think it would be healthy to ignore it.” Harry had long since accepted that the impact of the war wasn’t something he could avoid with the people he cared about.

“Hermione tells me that Hogwarts might feature in your future though. Have you owled McGonagall yet?”

“Not yet. But I will.” he added on seeing Ron’s expression. “I need to think about it. I don’t know if I’m ready for teaching yet. It seems so-” he searched for the right word “-overwhelming.” He finished. “I can’t imagine standing up in front of a class. I barely know what I’m doing with my own life!”

“I get what you mean.” Ron replied. “It wouldn’t be for me. But honestly mate, I think you’d be good at it.”

“Thanks.” Harry replied, genuinely. “Maybe it’s in my future, maybe it’s not. I think perhaps not straight away. Something Malfoy said last night actually got me thinking. He said something about consulting. Wards, security, that kind of thing.”

“Hmm, I can see how that would work for you.” Ron agreed.

Harry nodded. “I’m doing a lot of thinking about my life right now. I think perhaps something part-time, or contract-based could be good for me. Malfoy said the same.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that’s a smart man you’ve got there.” Ron sounded surprised. 

“Smarter than me for sure.” Harry replied. “He was telling me all about the wine last night and I didn’t understand half of it.”

“Harry, knowing about wine doesn’t mean that you’re smart.”

“No I know, I know. He’s just so composed, and I’m-” He let the sentence hang. He knew Ron would understand what he wasn’t saying.

“Harry, you’re brilliant. So what you don’t know about fancy wine, that isn’t everything.”

“You’re right, it’s just wine. I mean-” he didn’t know quite how to phrase it. “Despite his past, he’s actually got his shit together. Like, he’s on top of his game in the league, he knows what he wants with his career, he’s confident.”

“Harry, you literally saved the world when you were seventeen.” Ron deadpanned.

“Yeh and two weeks ago I quit my job and then broke through the wards at the Ministry.”

“Which makes you perfectly placed to consult on wards.” Ron challenged, eyebrows raised. He took a sip of his tea. “Look, so what you’re a bit more chaotic, at least you know it. And you’re working on it. Look at you, you’ve said more sensible shit in the past two weeks than I’ve heard from you in years.”

Harry groaned. “Does this count as another pep talk?”

“You know it does.” Ron laughed. “I’ll always be here for your meltdowns mate. Especially when they’re boy related, it’s just too cute.”

“Oh great.” Harry lamented.

“Now, let’s grab the kids and head out. It’s cold enough outside today that I reckon you can do that thing where you get your patronus to freeze. You know Hugo loves the icy reindeer.”

“It’s a stag!” Harry insisted.

“Yeh and if you want to be the one to break his tiny dreams, you can do that.”

Harry pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll grab my coat.” He tucked the chair back in and paused. “And thanks Ron, again. I don’t know how I’d get through life without you.”

“You’re welcome mate. One day you’ll be ready to leave the nest, though I reckon Rose might get there before you.”

Harry shot a mild stinging charm his way.

“Oh you are on! Rose! Hugo!” Ron called up the stairs. “Grab your coats, Uncle Harry says you can practice throwing snowballs at him!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all mistakes are mine. Thanks for sticking with this story. Hopefully you'll forgive my shameless delays with this chapter!

**PROMPT: MISTLETOE**

Saturday evening found Harry questioning his culinary ambition as he stared into his oven, trying to work out whether his lemon and sumac roasted chicken and accompanying roasted roots were either caramelised or burnt.

Either way, Harry thought as he pulled out the tray, it was time to get the dish under a stasis. After hours of lessons from Molly over the years, he thought of himself as a relatively good cook, but cooking for a date added an extra level of stress that at this very moment, he could really do without.

Harry had been pleasantly surprised and distinctly relieved to find a note from Malfoy when he’d woken up that morning. He had never been the best judge of whether his crushes were requited, much to the amusement of his friends, but this time, instead of Harry asking Malfoy out, Malfoy had asked Harry out. Harry had suggested dinner at his house in a shameless attempt to get Malfoy back into his bed and had been delighted when Malfoy had agreed.

It was currently five minutes to seven, the food was ready, there was a bottle of red on the table, and Harry was wearing the tightest pair of jeans that he owned. 

He wasn’t nervous per se, they’d very much broken through the first date awkwardness, but with their shared history Harry wasn’t completely confident. While Harry felt comfortable with their fledgling relationship so far, his own visceral reaction to their conversation about Snape had caught him by surprise. He’d had nearly fifteen years to process the trauma of his childhood, but his teenage years weren’t something he often spent time dwelling on. Of course _The Prophet_ was a thorn in his side, constantly referring his present to his past, but he didn’t read articles about himself.

He had spent some time thinking about his past this week though. He’d remembered his rivalry with Malfoy, the animosity, the mixed emotions that came with being the centre of the other man’s attention. He’d also taken the time to remember their low points, the broken nose, and the Sectumsempra. Not having seen Malfoy in years, Harry had never taken the time to apologise, but he resolved to tonight. Well, if he could get the other man naked anyway. 

A sharp rap at the front door jolted him from his musings and he flattened his hair as he made his way past the thankfully silent mirror in the hallway.

“Good evening.” Malfoy stood on the doorstep, illuminated by a nearby street lamp. He was wearing a long coat and holding what Harry presumed was a very nice bottle of wine.

“Hi.” Harry welcomed. “Come in, it’s freezing outside tonight.”

Malfoy chuckled. “There are such things as warming charms Potter. This coat has one sewn in.” They made their way towards the kitchen, Harry taking Malfoy’s coat and hanging it carefully on his coat stand. “In Quidditch it’s pretty standard to have charms sewn into your match day kit so that you don’t get cold after the game. After experiencing a warm cloak after a match I decided that permanent warming charms were a luxury I refused to go without.”

Harry watched him remove his jacket and hang it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Malfoy looked effortlessly cool in a white shirt, crisp navy chinos and loafers. Harry found himself doubting his own emerald button down. 

“I’m so glad it’s the Christmas break.” Malfoy announced as he pulled out a second chair and put his feet up. “You would not believe how hard we’ve been training this month.”

“It looks like you have.” Harry tried, looking Draco up and down.

“Flirting already Potter.” Malfoy teased. “You’re shameless. You haven’t even offered me a drink.”

“Oh I am so sorry your majesty.” Harry replied sarcastically. “Let me just pour you a glass of wine from the bottle that’s right in front of you shall I?”

“You’re a heathen.” Malfoy retorted. “A guest shouldn’t have to pour their own wine.”

Harry refrained from arguing back. “Dinner’s ready, if you’re hungry?”

“Very.” Malfoy replied. “I didn’t get time to get lunch between dropping off my brooms for servicing and buying last minute gifts.” Harry placed a plate in front of Malfoy and took the place opposite him. “I guess you did this all weeks ago, now that you’re a man of leisure. What did you get Teddy?” Malfoy asked. 

“I wanted to get him that broom, remember?” Harry replied. 

“Ah yes. You wanted him to try some of mine.” Harry nodded. “I should have them back mid next week if that works?” Malfoy asked.

“It’s not like I have many other plans.” Harry replied. “Just let me know, I can always apparate to Teddy’s to pick him up on the way.” He took a sip of his wine. “Do you like the food?”

“Yes, delicious. I was just about to comment. I really like the yoghurt dressing for the vegetables.”

“Thanks. Bill taught me this one. He spends a lot of time in Egypt and the Middle East.”

They made polite conversation as they ate, Malfoy recounting some of his training schedule and Harry peppering him with questions about the latest brooms. As the evening wore on they stayed at the table and the polite conversation tiptoed into something more flirtatious, where they both liked to go out, comparing gay scenes across Europe. At one point Harry’s foot had touched Malfoy’s ankle and he’d left it there for a while. Two glasses of wine and he now had the courage to gently run it back and forth.

“Something you want, Potter?” Malfoy asked, eyebrows raised. A lock of hair had fallen out of his fringe and Harry couldn’t help but think what he’d look like with it properly mussed.

He decided to up the stakes. “You know what I want Malfoy.” He moved his foot to the back of Malfoy’s calf and continued to stroke back and forth. “You said you didn’t fuck on the first date. What about the second?” he asked in a low voice.

“Naughty.” Malfoy reprimanded.

“I’ve been thinking about it since we kissed goodbye the other night.” Harry admitted.

“Oh really?” Malfoy shifted in his chair and Harry was sorely tempted to run his foot up the inside of Malfoy’s thigh. But he resisted, this would be a delicate game. Malfoy wasn’t giving anything away.

Harry didn’t reply, instead he took what he hoped was a casual sip of wine.

A thought came to his head. He took a moment to visualise what he was about to do, then he snapped his fingers, conjuring a sprig of mistletoe over his own head. He pushed his chair back, spreading his legs slightly, looked up above him and then looked at Malfoy. He was pleasantly surprised to catch Malfoy averting his gaze from his own crotch and delighted at the subsequent blush appearing across Malfoy’s cheeks. It gave him the confidence to lean back slightly. “Interested?”

Malfoy's face was impassive, but Harry could spot his dilated pupils from across the table. Harry let the silence play out. He really hoped his tactic had worked otherwise he was going to look like a right tit. A moment later, Malfoy appeared to decide on something, and Harry watched in delight as he pushed back his chair and rounded the table to Harry’s side. He stopped just short of Harry’s chair and looked down. Harry desperately tried to avoid looking at Malfoy’s crotch, which was now at eye level.

“What are you waiting for, Potter?” Malfoy asked softly.

The sound of his voice shattered the tension between them and Harry surged upwards capturing Malfoy’s lips with a soft sigh. He felt a hand settle on the small of his back as Malfoy leaned into him, kissing back slowly, carefully. Harry felt a warmth flutter through his body that had nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with being surrounded by the other man. But then Malfoy bit his lower lip gently, just how Harry liked, and all thoughts of slowly and carefully went out the window.

Harry deepened the kiss, walking them both backwards until Malfoy was pressed up against the counter. Malfoy moved his hands to Harry’s hips and pulled Harry towards himself. Harry groaned into Malfoy’s mouths as he felt their cocks press against each other. Fuck this felt good. Malfoy was kissing up Harry’s jaw while moving one hand to press and rub against the bulge in Harry’s jeans.

“So needy Potter. Look at you, already so hard for me.” Harry whined slightly as Malfoy pulled an earlobe with his teeth. “I’m surprised you didn’t crawl under the table at dinner the way you were undressing me with your eyes.”

“Ngh.” Harry didn’t trust himself with full sentences as Malfoy continued to rub back and forth against the front of his jeans. It felt simultaneously incredible but also nowhere near enough.

Malfoy pulled away from Harry’s ear and Harry shuddered at the sensation of cool air meeting where Malfoy’s tongue had been moments ago. “Now, be a good boy and apparate us to your bedroom.” Malfoy pulled his hand away and Harry groaned, the loss of sensation highlighting just how good it had felt.

“Fuck.” Harry swore. He grabbed Malfoy’s arm and prayed that he was clear-headed enough not to splinch them. Swirling blackness surrounded them and then suddenly they were in his bedroom. Harry barely had a moment to work out where he’d landed them before Malfoy was pulling them both onto the bed. Malfoy positioned them so that Harry was on top, straddling him, then Malfoy was sitting up, kissing him roughly, grinding their crotches together and unbuttoning Harry’s shirt.

“You have no idea-” Malfoy popped a button, “-just how difficult it is to resist you-” another, “-when you are being so fucking slutty.” He wrestled the shirt off Harry’s shoulder and immediately his mouth was sucking, licking, biting at one of Harry’s nipples. Harry felt his head tip back as the duel sensation hit. Malfoy was mouthing at his chest now, his mouth sending Harry wild. “Those jeans-” he paused to bite Harry’s other nipple and Harry groaned, “-are a disgrace. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were playing at.”

Harry wanted to deny it but he’d seemingly lost the ability to think in words. Plus, Malfoy was right, he’d worn those jeans with exactly this end result in mind.

Malfoy had one hand holding Harry in place and the other was frantically undoing his own buttons, revealing inch by tantalising inch of pale skin and sharp collarbones. A flash of silver caught Harry’s eye and he tried to pull himself back to reality. Hadn’t he resolved to apologise?

“Malfoy, I-” he froze as the rest of a luminescent slash appeared. It ran diagonally from just below where Malfoy’s shirt collar had been to slightly below the bottom of his ribs. Harry reached out to touch, but stopped just short. “I’m really sorry-” 

Malfoy pulled them both down towards the bed, pressing their chests against each other, and cutting off the rest of Harry’s sentence.

“Stop.” he said simply. “Thank you, but now is not the time. I made peace with this long ago, but now is not the time.” he repeated. Then he was kissing Harry and grinding their hips together again and Harry decided that there wasn’t much more he could do right now so let himself be carried away again. 

The made out for a while, the ebb and flow of power translated through strong hands, passionate kisses, breathy moans. Harry was completely captivated, pleasure rushing through his body as they entwined.

“I want you to ride me.” Malfoy whispered into Harry’s ear and Harry had to screw his eyes shut in concentration as he tried desperately not to come in his pants like a teenager.

“Mmm yeh.” Harry replied, kissing down Malfoy’s body until he was straddling him again. He gestured between them. “Can I?” he asked, hoping that Malfoy would understand. Malfoy nodded and Harry took that as tacit approval for him to vanish their clothes.

Harry shivered as the cool air hit his skin, but was immediately distracted by the sight of Malfoy’s cock. His mouth watered.

“Nuh uh, you can suck it later.” How did he know? “Right now I want to see you prep that tight little arsehole of yours.”

Harry groaned shamelessly. Malfoy was going to be the death of him.

He summoned his lube and began working one, then two fingers into himself. He was lucky the light was low because he was surely blushing under Malfoy’s intense gaze. Malfoy kept his eyes on him while he leisurely stroked his own cock.

“I’m ready.” Harry said.

“You sure?” Malfoy asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Yeh, I like it like this.” Harry replied. And it was true, he liked the feeling of that first press, the slight burn, the cold shiver followed by warm tingling pleasure.

Harry positioned Malfoy’s cock against his hole and slowly pushed down. It was so much bigger than two fingers but fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. Warm, hard flesh slid slowly into his body and Harry breathed through the initial discomfort. Malfoy had his hands flat on the bed but it looked as if it was costing him effort to keep them there.

“Mmm yes, like that darling.” Malfoy encouraged as Harry felt him bottom out. “When you’re ready, put your hands on my chest, I want to watch you fuck yourself on me.”

Harry groaned and followed Malfoy’s instructions. He quite liked the heady pleasure that came with not thinking, to losing himself. He began to move, up and down, and slowly the discomfort shifted to hot pleasure. He shifted slightly until Malfoy’s cock was pressing against his prostate.

“Mmm fuck, this feels good.” Harry breathed, sweat dripping off his face with the effort of holding himself up.

Malfoy groaned. “Merlin Potter you feel incredible.” he thrust upwards, once, twice, knocking Harry off his rhythm but nailing his prostate. 

“Ngh.”

“Not yet Potter, I’m not done with you yet.” Then Malfoy was lifting Harry off his cock and pushing him backwards onto the bed. 

“Wha-” Harry began to protest, but then Malfoy was swallowing down his cock and all coherent thought left his brain. Malfoy set a punishing pace and Harry groaned shamelessly as Malfoy bobbed his head up and down. “Ngh, fuck! Malfoy!”

“Say my real name.” Malfoy instructed between swirling his tongue around the head and taking Harry all the way into his throat.

“Fuck, D-Draco. Draco if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.” Harry shouted. The name felt awkward in his mouth, but he didn’t have much time to consider the moment before the man was bending one of Harry’s legs up over a pale shoulder and pressing back into him. “Oh god, Draco, fuck me!” It felt unbelievable, relentlessly pleasurable as Malfoy fucked him hard and fast. Harry’s cock was bouncing against his stomach and Malfoy reached a hand to support Harry’s hips so that Harry could grab and stroke himself in time.

“Fuck. Merlin. Fuck! I’m going to come. Malf- Draco, I’m going to come!”

“Do it.”

Harry felt his pleasure cresting and then he was coming, hard, pure sensation swooping through his body, his toes and fingertips tingling from the force of his orgasm. Malfoy stilled on top of him Harry felt him empty himself into Harry’s arse.

They collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and out of breath.

“Fuck me that was good.” Harry laughed.

Malfoy grinned in agreement.

“You staying this time?” Harry asked sleepily. He felt a gently cleansing charm and the covers being pulled around him.

“Alright then.” Malfoy breathed, but Harry was already asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**PROMPT: JINGLE MY BELLS CHRISTMAS JUMPER**

When Harry awoke the next morning, Draco was still fast asleep. He looked relaxed in a way that Harry had not yet witnessed, and Harry decided that he rather liked it. Draco was always so put together, so striking, so in control, that seeing him like this, hair mussed, breathing deeply, Harry was almost overwhelmed by the feeling of tenderness, of wanting to care for him. Merlin he had it bad.

He crept out of bed, grabbing a pair of joggers on the way out of the room. He was in the process of making a cup of tea when Draco appeared at the doorway. He was wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs and nothing else. Harry nearly dropped the milk.

“Cat got your tongue?” Draco teased.

Harry made a few attempts to reply, but each time words failed to actually leave his mouth. Draco looked gorgeous, all long lines and firm muscles from hours of Quidditch training. Harry faintly considered the idea of pouring the milk he was holding all over Draco just to lick it off, before realising that that was a completely ridiculous idea and not at all sexy. If anything it would be very cold. He tried to collect himself. “I made tea.” he started. “But if you want coffee we’ll have to go out for it. I am not currently in possession of a coffee machine.”

Draco looked curious but said nothing, almost as if he knew the story but was waiting for Harry to share it. Maybe Harry was imagining it, or, his heart dropped, maybe Ron had said something? He was being stupid, it didn’t matter either way, Malf-Draco would find something to tease him about either way. He pulled himself back to reality to find Draco slowly stalking towards him.

“Tea is fine.” Draco said, pressing his body against Harry’s back and kissing him just below the ear. Harry shivered. “I can think of something else that I want though.” 

Somehow, Harry’s reply managed to sound controlled. “Oh?” he pushed back slightly, feeling Draco’s erection against his lower back. “What did you have in mind?”

Draco pushed his body hard against Harry’s, pinning him to the counter, strong hands pressing firmly against Harry's hips. Teeth grazed the back of Harry’s neck and he was glad that Draco was essentially holding him up as Harry didn’t think he trusted his knees right now. Draco dipped his fingers below the waistband of Harry’s joggers to squeeze his arse, all the time kissing, licking, biting at his neck, earlobe, shoulder. Harry felt like his brain was short-circuiting as blood rushed to fill his now rock hard cock. He tried to push forward against the counter, anything to relieve the dull ache between his legs, but he felt Draco’s hands still him.

“Nuh uh.” Draco breathed into Harry’s ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in pleasure. “Not yet darling.” Draco continued massaging his arse, long fingers gently pulling him open, teasing his hole. “I’d quite like to see your beautiful mouth wrapped around my cock first.” he said. 

Harry moaned in agreement, grinding back against Draco.

“So needy.” Draco whispered into his ear. Harry felt himself nodding in agreement, and then Draco was maneuvering them so that Draco had his back against the counter top and Harry was standing facing him. Draco had a wicked glint in his eye, and Harry felt his heart racing. This man was simply too sexy for his own good. 

Light pressure on his shoulder encouraged Harry to sink to his knees. Harry relished the wave of endorphins he felt at the gesture. How did Draco know exactly what he needed? 

He settled between Draco’s legs and looked up. Draco was pushing his underwear down slightly, pulling out his cock. Harry reached up to grab Draco’s hips but Draco pulled back. “Keep your hands behind your back.” he ordered gently, eyes meeting Harry’s to check his reaction. Harry sighed deeply and complied. This was perfect. 

Seemingly satisfied, Draco nodded, then he was gripping the base of his cock and slowly pushing it against Harry’s mouth. Harry opened his mouth immediately, but Draco ran it slowly over Harry’s sensitive lips instead. Harry held still and awaited his next instruction.

“Tongue.” Draco requested, and Harry complied, letting Draco slowly push the tip of his cock up and down against it. The slight tang of precome and the dull taste of skin made Harry's mouth water. He breathed steadily as Draco continued to tease himself with Harry’s mouth. Harry felt saliva running down his chin, his own neglected cock was pressing against his joggers, almost painfully, but he tried to ignore it. He glanced up at Draco and noticed with delight that Draco’s composure was slipping. He had his head tipped back slightly, eyes closed, and it looked as if he was putting a lot of effort into not thrusting forward.

“Mmm, perfect Harry. Just perfect.”

Harry’s cheeks warmed at the praise and he decided to flick his tongue over the head of Draco’s cock. Draco moaned loudly, so Harry did it again. He kept licking, listening to the sounds Draco was making. He felt Draco's hips stutter and Harry knew the other man was losing control. Keeping his hands behind his back, he surged forward, not stopping until his lips met Draco’s fist. He grinned around the weight in his mouth as Draco let go of his cock, allowing Harry to take him all the way into his throat. Harry loved doing this, the combination of power and submission leaving his mind blissfully blank. He paused there momentarily, his nose pressed against Draco’s pubic hair. Draco smoothed the hair out of Harry’s face and Harry’s eyes closed in pleasure. Then he pulled back and began the blowjob in earnest. 

Harry relished every noise, every sigh, every curse. His lack of gag reflex was something previous partners had wondered at, and he put it to good use, taking all of Draco’s sizable cock into his throat each time.

“That’s it darling, like that. Perfect.” Draco breathed. If he could still talk, Harry thought, then Harry wasn’t doing his job. He redoubled his efforts, picking up the pace. His jaw ached, but he kept going, bobbing his head back and forth. His own cock was desperate for attention but he kept his arms in place, knowing that Draco would more than return the favour afterwards.

“Oh Merlin, yes, fuck, I’m going to come baby.” Draco moaned. 

Harry groaned at Draco’s term of endearment and then hot bitter semen was flooding his mouth. He held still, trying to swallow as much as possible. Draco was breathing heavily, and Harry almost missed the sound of the floo in the other room.

He pulled off Draco in alarm, catching Draco’s wide-eyed panic as he quickly tucked himself back into his pants. Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up just in time to see Ron waltzing into the kitchen.

Ron froze, looking between Harry and Draco, no doubt taking in Harry’s swollen lips and mussed hair. The silence was excruciating and Harry wanted to melt into the floor.

Draco was the one to break the silence. He nodded in Ron’s direction. “Weasley.”

Ron looked very uncomfortable but replied. “Malfoy.”

Harry continued to want to disappear.

Malfoy looked back to Harry. He kissed him on the cheek and fixed him with an expression that left Harry in complete certainty that Draco expected them to continue what they had started just as soon as Ron left.

“Nice jumper.” Draco said to Ron, and then, in nothing but his underwear, he walked past Ron and out of the room.

Ron was still frozen when Harry decided he needed to be the one to say something.

“We were-” he started, but then trailed off, he was still strongly tempted just to apparate away. “Why are you wearing a jumper that says ‘Jingle My Bells’? Can’t Rose read pretty well now?” he asked, aiming to distract Ron from the fact that he'd almost witnessed his best friend giving an enthusiastic blowjob.

Ron sighed, the comment seemed to rouse him. “It’s from George’s Christmas collection. I’m headed to the shop now. Ridiculous I know.” He stopped. “So-” he started in a lower, more playful tone. “You and Malfoy.”

“Oh don’t waggle your eyebrows Ron, you were the one who said I should do this.” Harry replied, part exasperated, part just wanted to get his friend to leave. “Look, I’ll catch you up on it another time, but I really don’t want Draco to leave if you get what I’m saying.”

“Ooh Draco is it?”

“Yes, yes! Malfoy, Draco, same same. Just, please?” Harry pleaded. He was fortuitously still hidden behind the counter but if he didn’t touch himself soon he was going to spontaneously combust. He could still taste Draco’s spunk on his tongue.

“I’m going! I just came to drop these over anyway.” Ron unshrunk a pile of haphazardly wrapped gifts. “Where should I put them?”

“Just leave them there!” Harry half-shouted. He needed to get upstairs right now.

“On the floor?” Ron asked quizzically, almost like he was intentionally trying to wind him up.

“Yes, no. I don’t know. Just anywhere. The table. Leave them on the table.” Harry stuttered. “Then I have to-” he paused again, pointed vaguely at the direction of upstairs.

“I’ll let you get to it.” Ron said with a wink.

“Ohmygod can we not?” Harry cringed. 

Ron laughed. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Thanks. Sorry. I mean, bye. Have a good day.” Harry rushed out.

As soon as he heard Ron step into the floor he was rushing up the stairs as fast as was physically possible with a raging erection. Fucking hell. Draco better still be naked, he thought.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay. My goal is to finish before the end of the month!

**PROMPT: COLOURFUL CHRISTMAS TREE LIGHTS**

The sight of the Hogwarts castle towering over the snow-covered grounds never failed to take Harry’s breath away. The sun was low in the sky but Harry’s entire vista was bright, the snow almost sparkling in the fading light. He refreshed his warming charm and marched through the gates, the snow crunching loudly under his feet.

Harry arrived at the castle doors much warmer and slightly out of breath. He really must start exercising properly, he thought. Less than a month out of the Aurors and already his fitness was already shocking. Although, Draco _had_ given him a thorough workout the day before. He grinned to himself, remembering their lengthy and enthusiastic session once Ron had finally left the day before.

“Something amusing Mr Potter?” McGonagall’s sharp Scottish accent pulled him back to the present. He hadn’t noticed her arrive.

Harry schooled his face into something that he hoped didn’t read ‘you just caught me daydreaming about riding Draco Malfoy’s cock’ and brushed over the question. “Headmistress.” he replied. “Thank you for making the time to see me.”

“I rather think it was I who invited you.” McGonagall replied wryly. “Inside with you, it’s much too cold to be talking about your career prospects outside the front doors.” 

She magicked open the heavy doors and led the way through the empty great hall. It felt slightly unsettling, it being so quiet, but he supposed that term had finished. It was hard not to reminisce about his school days, the lazy weekend breakfasts and school cup wins. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to acknowledge how it had looked after the war. It was different now, the colourful Christmas lights and decorations adorning the walls instead. Their footsteps echoed across the stone. “Is that what we’re doing?” Harry asked cheekily. “Discussing my career prospects?” 

McGonagall leveled him with a stern expression. “While my letter was vague, I expect you understand my reasons for inviting you to Scotland.” 

They were almost at her office now, and Harry noted with delight that the gargoyles were still in place. When they made it to the circular room, Harry took a moment to look around. While there were fewer spindly objects now, there were many many more books. Harry supposed it made sense. Where Dumbledore had been powerful and political, McGonagall was much more academic. He nodded briefly at the portrait of the man himself where he snoozed, and noted with slight sadness that Snape was missing from his frame. He’d hoped to pass on a hello from Draco. When he’d mentioned his trip to Draco the day before, Draco had asked Harry to pass his message along.

“You’re right.” Harry continued, taking a seat. “While I both understand and respect your reasons for inviting me here, I have to politely decline. I don’t think I’m ready to teach, not yet at least.”

McGonagall looked at him appraisingly from across the desk, her face more lined, but her eyes just as sharp. “I had suspected that a full time role may not be suitable.” she replied. “However I have plans to expand the curriculum for our older students, to make it more personalised, if you will. I hope to set up a series of research tracks and project-based work, smaller seminars and the like, something to begin to link the world of academia and the wizarding world of work.”

Harry thought back to the pamphlets they’d received back in fifth year, this seemed a marked improvement and he found himself itching to tell Hermione. He hadn’t expected this.

“It sounds like a great idea. Really. However-” He paused. “Given that I’m not currently employed, perhaps I wouldn’t be the best example?”

McGonagall fixed him with a stern expression. “You may have moved on from the Aurors but you have a wealth of experience that the older children could indeed benefit from. I expect you’ll be able to keep their attention too, given that I believe you are now a major focus of the Modern Magical History course.”

Harry coughed, uncomfortably. His war record was not something he enjoyed talking about.

As if sensing his discomfort, McGonagall changed the subject. “The news that you had single-handedly ripped through the Ministry's wards recently made its way up here from London.” Her eyes sparkled and Harry’s stomach dropped in embarrassment.

“Professor-” he tried to interrupt, but she held her hand up,

“Perhaps a course in the history and theory of security spells might be something you’d consider leading? I expect there’d be cause for a practical component too.”

Despite having arrived thoroughly planning to turn her down, Harry stopped to consider McGonagall’s suggestion. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He thought she’d ask him about the Defence role. It made him think of Draco’s suggestion too. His imagination began to wander, part-time consulting, sporadic lecturing, it could suit him. And being at Hogwarts regularly would give him more time to see Teddy.

“Might you consider it?” McGonagall, as if sensing his enthusiasm.

“I will consider it.” He replied, slowly. “Let’s say I’m trying to spend more time thinking, less time diving in at the moment.” He leaned back in his chair. “When would you expect these courses to start?”

“Next academic year. September.” she clarified. 

“Oh right, a way off then.”

“You’re the first I’ve asked. I couldn’t risk you getting snapped up by another organisation without at least asking. This school owes a lot to you Harry, and while teaching would certainly require a time commitment, it is immensely rewarding. I suspect that you’ll get out more than you put in. Especially someone like you.”

Harry nodded, slightly overcome with emotion. Her use of his first name was no doubt intentional.

“I’ll consider it.” He repeated.


	21. Chapter 21

**PROMPT: MERRY CHRISTMAS WRITTEN IN THE SAND ON A TROPICAL BEACH**

When Harry awoke, he could immediately tell that it was late in the morning. He felt well rested for one, and there was a stillness outside that left him with the impression that London’s morning hustle and bustle was over.

He ambled downstairs slowly, blinking sleep from his eyes. He honestly didn’t want to even guess at the state of his hair. He’d had a strong suspecicion that his hair was vaguely sentient for a while now. It had a habit of being extra disastrous when he was especially sleepy or frustrated, as if wanting to help physically represent his emotional state. He made some toast, and, noting the weak sunshine streaming through his kitchen windows, he decided to take his plate outside.

The paving stones were freezing underfoot and he immediately regretted not slipping on shoes, but he had closed the door now so he didn’t feel like going back for them. Instead he cast a warming charm over the path to his favourite bench. He conjured a cushion and sat cross legged, removing his feet from the stone for when the warming charm wore off. His hips protested. Merlin he was getting old.

He put his plate of toast on the bench next to him, casting a small statis charm to keep it warm and crunchy, then he reached for the pile of post he’d brought out with him. Artimus must be asleep somewhere.

Most of the letters were bills, but a colourful postcard caught his eye. It was a muggle photo, the words ‘Merry Christmas’ drawn into the pristine sand of a tropical beach. He flipped it over and scanned it for a name, finding a scrawled _Love, Dean and Seamus_ at the bottom. He hadn’t even known they were going away? Did they mention it when he saw them last? His mind cast back to their rowdy Christmas meal and his body shivered involuntarily and the memory of the hangover that had followed. Had it really only been three weeks ago? That felt impossible. So much had changed. He’d still technically had a job back then. He hadn’t even known Draco was in the country.

But now here he was considering a new career path, and, when he lay in bed before going to sleep, his mind wandered to thoughts of what a future with Draco might look like.

He looked up at the clear blue sky, a rarity for this time of year, and willed himself to remember what the warmth of the sun felt like. The sun was too low to have any power this late in the year, but he closed his eyes and pictured the summer. Instead of bare trees and dewy grass, the garden would be full of colour and life. Perhaps he could invite Draco over and they could have a private picnic, Harry’s mind going to thoughts of Draco leisurely feeding him strawberries. Perhaps as he made Harry watch as he lazily pulled himself off. 

Harry pulled his mind back to the present. Draco was busy Christmas shopping today and there was no use getting carried away. 

He read Seamus and Dean’s message. It was brief, and judging by the handwriting had been written exclusively by Dean. That man really was a saint putting up with Seamus all day. He laughed at the line “ _If what we’ve heard on the grapevine is true, maybe we don’t have to take you out when you’re back..._ ” 

He took a bite of warm buttery toast, smiling to himself. He remembered their offer and thought back to that weekend. Spending time with Stefano felt like a lifetime ago. He supposed they’d never really been official, not really. Dirty weekends every few weeks did not a boyfriend make. If anything perhaps Harry had rushed into giving him that charmed coin, they’d barely known each other. In comparison, his memories with Draco over this past month were vivid with colour and emotion. The rush of excitement as he waited for Draco to arrive at his house, the flare of jealousy when he’d seen the paper that morning, the burning pleasure when they fucked. It felt more real than anything he’d had with Stefano, more real than anything he’d had in a long time. 

It was frightening, when he thought about it. They were still getting to know each other, but Harry saw so much potential. Draco had made time for Harry over the past month and he’d seem to enjoy their time together, but really Harry had no idea how seriously Draco felt about him. In the past, this wouldn’t have normally bothered Harry. If he was enjoying himself then what was the rush, he’d think. But now, reflecting on Hermione’s wise words to stop and take the time to think, he realised that just enjoying himself wasn’t enough for him this time around. He didn’t know where things would go with Draco, but for the first time in a while he found himself wanting to commit, to take control of their fledgling relationship rather than just have it in the back of his mind as an afterthought. And if he wanted to find out whether Draco felt the same, well, he’d just have to ask him.

They were due to see each other on the twenty-third, in two days. That’s when they’d agreed to take Teddy flying. Draco had called in a favour and had managed to book the Falcon’s pitch for the three of them. Teddy was beside himself with excitement. Harry resolved to talk to Draco afterwards. He’d invite him over afterwards. Hopefully Draco felt that spark of opportunity too.


	22. Chapter 22

**PROMPT: CHRISTMAS TREE**

Harry was exhausted. He’d spent what felt like almost the entire day outside, him and Teddy helping to prepare Andromeda’s small kitchen garden for the winter as she stayed inside cooking. He’d dug over so much earth that even his arm protested as he gripped his cup of tea. He’d suggested they use a spell, but Andromeda had explained that the magical residue would upset the delicate balance needed to nurture the vegetables she’d be planting in the spring, so they’d stuck with shovels, the hard work more effectively than any warming charm.

He took a sip of his tea and tipped his head back against the sofa. Teddy hadn’t stopped talking about their upcoming day flying with Draco, chattering all afternoon about brooms and maneuvers. But right now the idea of getting on a broom tomorrow seemed impossible, especially in front of Draco. An embarrassingly large part of him was gearing up to snatch the snitch right from under Draco’s nose, just like in their school days, although his slightly more realistic side said that Draco was a professional Quidditch player these days and was hardly going to lose to someone who’d played a handful of pick up games over the past year. In fact, the last time he’d even been on a broom was that disaster of a chase right before he’d quit the Aurors.

“Thanks for the tea, Andromeda.” he said as she walked into the room levitating a tray of biscuits, still wearing her apron.

“Not at all Harry.” she replied politely. “Thank you for keeping Teddy occupied all day. He’s been talking nonstop about your trip tomorrow, and being completely honest-” she lowered her voice slightly, “-I was grateful for the break.”

Harry grinned. Teddy was in the shower, so they had little chance of being overheard, but he enjoyed their conspiratorial conversation nonetheless. The fact that the room was lit only by the Christmas tree in the corner rather added to the secrecy.

“I didn’t want to give anything away today in case it doesn’t work out, but Draco’s trying to get his hands on one of the new Nimbus brooms. If he pulls it off, you might have to prepare yourself for Teddy’s excited debrief tomorrow night.” Harry warned.

“Oh it’s Draco now is it?” Andromeda asked, eyebrows raised.

Harry felt himself blush. “He and I have err-” He scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve err-” Merlin how was he supposed to phrase this.

“Don’t worry yourself dear.” Andromeda cut in, interrupting his floundering. “I know.” she grinned.

“You do?” Harry managed to reply, despite the fact that he wanted nothing less than to melt into his chair. It’s not that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing this with Andromeda, after all, she was Draco’s aunt, but he didn’t expect to have the conversation so soon.

“Why do you think I suggested it?” she replied, seemingly oblivious to Harry’s internal panic.

“You what?” Harry squeaked, taking a sip of tea and coughing to hide his embarrassment at the noise he’d just made.

Andromeda just smiled. “He seemed like he might be your type.” she added mischievously. 

Harry gaped at her, but when no further explanation was forthcoming he sighed, resigned. Even though he was burning with embarrassment, he could still appreciate her looking out for him. She couldn’t have known they’d hooked up beforehand, but in fairness, her suggestion they do something with Teddy had helped him to frame Draco in his mind as perhaps more than a one night stand.

“Does my grandson know?” she asked.

“Yes. He-” Harry paused. “He actually helped me ask Draco out. He saw me trying and failing to write him a letter, and he… um… he took over.” 

Andromeda laughed, eyes twinkling. “Perhaps he learned his meddling from me.” 

Harry laughed. “If he has, Merlin help us!”

“Will you be staying for dinner Harry?”

“If that’s okay?” he replied. 

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “You’re family.”

Harry couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “That means a lot Andy.” He took a sip of his tea. “It really does.”


	23. Chapter 23

**PROMPT: SMALL RAINBOW COLOURED CHRISTMAS TREE**

They were lucky with the weather. It was overcast but bright, and most importantly it didn’t look like it was going to rain. Perfect flying conditions, well, apart from the cold. Although at least one of the group didn’t seem to be fazed by that. Teddy was positively vibrating with excitement, and had turned down Harry’s offer of a warming charm earlier. “ _These brooms go so fast, I won’t need one!_ ” he’d said, and Harry had just laughed.

Draco was unpacking what looked like a mountain of brooms onto the frosty grass and Teddy was learning over him, mouth open in stunned silence. Harry smiled. It had been a while since he’d seen Teddy act with such childlike excitement. He was generally a happy teenager, but since they’d arrived at the Falcon’s stadium that morning he hadn’t stopped grinning. It reminded Harry of Rose when he took the kids to Fortescue’s.

Harry took a moment to roll his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up his back. He could still feel the effects of yesterday’s digging. 

“Looking for an excuse already old man?” Draco teased. He’d stood up to let Teddy pick the broom he’d like to try first and Harry couldn’t help but look him up and down. He wasn’t in quidditch leathers, but the form fitting sportswear he had on was not helping Harry keep his mind on flying.

“You wish.” Harry retorted, although he kept quiet about his sore muscles. He didn’t want Draco to go easy on him. A part of Harry wondered whether he’d still got it. “Just waiting to choose my broom.” he added.

Draco raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him. “Try the latest Cleansweep. I know they were rubbish at school-” he said, on seeing Harry’s grimace, “-but they’ve come a long way. I think it’ll suit your flying style.”

“You remember how I fly?” Harry asked, surprised. He was pleased to see that Draco blushed.

“I remember you always liked to dive. The Cleansweap is good for quick changes in direction.”

“Thank you.” Harry said. He accioed the broom and took a moment to feel its weight in his hand. “Nicely balanced.” he remarked.

“Yes.” Draco replied. “It’s the balance that helps with those turns.”

“Uncle Draco, can I try this one?” Teddy interrupted. He was holding a highly polished broom with a slightly longer than average tail.

“Good choice young man.” Draco replied, clapping Teddy on the shoulder. “You managed to pick the only one that isn’t out yet. It’s the new Comet. They’re saying it’s the fastest on the market.”

Teddy beamed up at Draco and Harry felt his heart warm. Draco was so good with him.

“Okay!” Draco said. “Let’s try them out.” He summoned his own broom before mounting and kicking off. Teddy followed, unable to control a yelp of delight as the broom accelerated upwards. Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself that both he and Draco were on hand if anything should happen, before kicking off himself. 

Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips as the familiar swoop of adrenaline leveled out into sheer enjoyment. He truly loved flying. It had been a while since he’d flown for fun and he delighted in doing a few loops before catching up with Draco and Teddy. Draco was teaching Teddy how to adjust his grip for maximum speed so Harry took a moment to shamelessly ogle Draco’s arse. The man looked sinfully good in leggings. He looked forward to getting him out of them later.

“Enjoying the view?” Draco was hovering next to him now, Teddy having shot off towards the goal posts.

Harry smiled. “You know I am.” He leaned over to give Draco a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re making it difficult for me to sit on this broom.”

“Oh am I?” Draco drawled. “We can’t have that.” He pulled a snitch out and held it up in front of them. “Seekers game?” he asked. “You, me and Teddy?”

“You’re on.” Harry replied, already mentally switching into a competitive mindset. 

Draco shouted over to Teddy and then let the snitch go. They gave it twenty seconds. “Ready, go!” Draco shouted. 

Harry did a backwards loop and twisted towards the away goalposts. He could hear Draco calling " _Show off!"_ behind him as the wind whipped through his hair. 

Twenty minutes later the snitch was nowhere to be found, but Harry found he didn’t care. Flying with Teddy and Draco was just too much fun. They took a short break after Teddy asked if he could try a different broom. 

While Teddy looked through the collection again, Harry felt Draco tug on his arm. He was holding two brooms, a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, and a Firebolt. Harry took a deep breath. “I thought we could make some new memories?” Draco asked gently, a touch of nerves in his voice. 

Harry looked down at the brooms, reaching out to touch the lettering on the Firebolt’s handle. It threw up some complex emotions but when Harry looked back up at Draco and saw his determined expression, he smiled. He understood the gesture for what he hoped it was, a tacit agreement that they couldn’t ignore their past, but that Draco was prepared to acknowledge it carefully and respectively. 

Harry grabbed the Firebolt. “You’re on.” he nodded.

Draco smiled and kicked off into the air once more. 

This time they were out for longer. It was funny thinking back to his first go on his own Firebolt. At the time it had seemed unsurpassable in speed and control, but even now, as he tailed Draco, he could feel the difference between this and the Cleansweep he’d just tried. The Firebolt didn’t feel slow, but it was evident that broom design had moved on since his Hogwarts days. Draco was elegant but dangerous, changing direction unpredictably and throwing gleeful glances over his shoulder ever time Harry fell out of sync. While Harry had started out aiming to win, his strategy had soon shifted to one that didn’t end up with him embarrassing himself. Harry was sweating just trying to keep up with Draco despite the fact that he was riding a much better broom.

A flash of gold below them caught his eye, but while he might have seen the snitch first, he quickly realised that he’d have very little chance of catching it. Draco executed a phenomenal twisting move which had him plummeting downwards before Harry could even think about diving. That didn’t stop him from giving up though. He pressed his nose to the handle and willed his broom to catch up. Draco had the head start, but Harry’s broom was faster. As they got closer and closer to the ground, Harry’s broom was getting closer and closer to Draco. Harry gritted his teeth. Come on. Almost there. He reached a hand out in front of him, but as he did so, the snitch zipped sideways leaving Harry, who had committed to a pure speed play, with no chance in hell of matching. Draco on the other hand pulled out of his dive faster than Harry thought was possible on a twenty year old Nimbus, and managed to grab it before it vanished.

“Yes!” Draco cheered. He looked genuinely delighted for someone who surely did this most weeks. Harry couldn’t help but smile too. Teddy was clapping and Harry was momentarily surprised to see him at all. He’d forgotten there were three of them in the game. Draco flew to meet them, the snitch still tightly pressed in his fist. As Draco reached them, Harry grabbed him around the waist, adrenaline and affection rushing through his body.

“Go on, kiss already!” Teddy shouted, startling them both.

“I guess he knows.” Draco grinned. 

“Yeh.” Harry replied breathlessly, and pulled Draco into a kiss.

\--

Draco and Harry arrived back at Harry’s later that afternoon. They’d dropped a giddy but tired Teddy back at Andromeda’s before apparating together. To Andromeda’s dismay, and to Harry’s relief, she’d accepted their refusal to stay for tea. She looked like she had a lot of questions for them both, but all Harry wanted right now was Draco all to himself, and definitely a shower.

“Thank you for today.” Harry said as he toed off his shoes, leaving them in a pile under a small rainbow coloured Christmas tree that Seamus had given him as a joke some years before. “I think you made Teddy’s Christmas, or perhaps even his life.”

Draco smiled. “And thank you to you too. He’s a great kid. Well, young man really. I can see you’ve been a good influence.”

Harry snorted, steering their conversation from serious to playful. “Perhaps.” He peeled off his jumper. “Merlin I need a shower.” Draco laughed. “Guests first though, use the one in my en suite.”

Draco took off his own shoes, but instead of heading upstairs he turned to Harry, pulling him close and biting at his earlobe. “Perhaps you’ll join me?”

Harry swallowed, his brain trying to process Draco’s switch from serious to sultry. “I can do that.” he replied.

“Good boy.” Draco whispered, taking Harry’s hand. “Follow me.”

They made it to his bathroom without incident, although Harry was sure he was going to miss a step on the stairs. He spelled the shower on and the room quickly filled with steam. They stripped in silence, Draco’s dark eyes expressing how he felt more succinctly than words could.

They started slowly, lathering each other in soap, taking the time to explore each other’s bodies. Draco washed Harry’s hair, his erection pressed gently against the small of Harry’s back. Harry’s own cock was untouched, but the mental image of them together, combined with the sensation of Draco gently pulling at his roots had him tingling with pleasure. Harry moaned as Draco moved his hands from his hair, over his shoulders, down his sides and over his lower back. Despite the warmth of the water, he shivered as Draco began to massage his arse and then moaned as he felt Draco’s drop to his knees. Harry pressed a hand against the shower wall and not a moment to soon as he felt Draco’s tongue push into him and very nearly lost the ability to stand up.

“Ngh. Fuck, like that.” Harry breathed.

Draco pulled back slightly. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you darling.”

“Fuck.” Harry swore, partly at Draco’s words, and partly at the sensation of Draco tonguing his balls. 

Harry was moaning shamelessly, the noises he was making echoing over the sound of the water. Draco had a finger inside of him now while he continued to use his mouth to pleasure Harry’s balls. He grazed them carefully with his teeth and Harry groaned, collapsing forward, face now pressed against the inside of his elbow. 

“Do you like it when I do that darling?” Harry had his eyes screwed shut but he could picture water running down Draco’s body, his sharp features schooled into a questioning expression. He nodded.

“Use your words baby.” Draco requested.

“Yes.” Harry gasped. “I like it.”

Draco didn’t answer, instead he crooked his finger directly against Harry’s prostate.

“Fuck.” Harry got out. “ _Fuck._ ” 

“Good boy.” Draco said again. Merlin if those words weren’t sending Harry wild.

Draco continued his relentless assault on Harry’s prostate and Harry gave up on even attempting to sound dignified. Then he put his mouth back on Harry’s balls and from then on it was simply a matter of time. Pleasure swirled throughout his body, the duel sensation from his arse and his balls causing his dick to bounce against nothing. Harry didn’t have to be told to keep his hands away, he could tell Draco wouldn’t want him to touch himself. 

He hadn’t come untouched with Draco yet, but the man was definitely about to find out that for Harry this was entirely possible.

He felt the pleasure building and he couldn’t help but push back against Draco’s finger. He groaned loudly as Draco grazed his teeth against his balls again and then suddenly, sharply, he felt his orgasm crest. His dick twitched hard and he shot his load across the wall of the shower. Draco pulled his mouth away but kept his finger held in place as Harry moaned through the aftershocks.

Harry looked back. Draco’s hair was pressed against his head and his face was flushed from the heat of the shower, and from what he’d just been doing. His own cock was very hard between his legs.

Harry wiped the water from his eyes and helped pull Draco up into a standing position.

“Gonna let me return the favour?” Harry asked.

Draco kissed him slowly. “Not this time Potter. Dry off, then I want you on the bed. I’m going to wash my hair, and when I come back, I want you laid out for me with a plug in your arse, ready for me. I’m sure you’ve got one.”

Harry nodded dumbly, and he felt his spent cock twitch in agreement.

“Good.” Draco replied. “I won’t be long.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I missed my January, deadline - but we're almost there! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed this story so far. It's my first experience of posting chapters as I write them, and while I completely failed at staying on track with a daily posting schedule (sorry!), I've really enjoyed reading your comments and getting kudos notifications along the way. It's really helped me to stay motivated!

**PROMPT: SNOWFLAKE**

It was amazing how quickly things could change, Harry thought as he blinked his eyes open the following morning. Less than one month ago he would have happily described waking up as one of the worst parts of his day. It had been the moment he was reminded of a job that he hated, or, if he was luckily enough for it to be the weekend, he was reminded of how tired he felt from working the job that he hated. 

Since quitting, his mornings had started later and later as he found himself lying in bed purely because he felt incredibly fortunate that _“Fuck!”_ was no longer the first thing on his mind. 

Today, however, _fuck_ actually was the first thing on his mind, but only as a certain dull ache reminded him of the night before. 

Having just woken up, he was already fairly hard, but just thinking back to how Draco had teased him mercilessly the night before had his cock twitching. He’d always enjoyed a bit of power play, and it seemed Draco did too. He’d kept Harry on the edge for what felt like hours, fucking him oh so slowly with the plug until Harry all but begged him for his cock. They’d have to talk about their limits of course, but Harry was more than a little delighted to see that Draco took control so naturally.

Harry looked to his right. The man in question was still asleep, breathing deeply, blonde hair still unfairly well-styled. Harry absently wondered whether he slept with a charm in. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Harry lay still so not to wake him. The outside world seemed quieter than normal, as if somehow it knew not to disturb them. With a lazy wave of his hand he carefully cracked open the curtains and was surprised to see a layer of snow covering his garden. That must be what was deadening the noise then. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. There was something about snow that always made him feel excited. He looked back to Draco. A month ago he wouldn’t have even dreamed of this, lying next to someone he cared for, cocooned together in bed while snowflakes fell outside. It was perfect.

Harry resolved to talk to Draco today about their relationship. For all it felt like a fairytale, without a sincere conversation about where Draco’s head was at, Harry wouldn’t allow himself to get too carried away. He’d planned to bring it up yesterday after all, but his cock had rather got in the way. He pictured Hermione’s eye roll and accompanying sigh of _“Men”_ if she’d known he’d traded a deep and meaningful conversation for shower sex.

He felt Draco shift in the bed next to him, and then a soft kiss was pressed against his shoulder.

“Good morning.” Draco said, voice cracking from disuse. “Sickle for your thoughts?”

Harry turned towards him, wrapping his legs around Draco’s so that they were face to face under the duvet and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips.

“I _was_ thinking.” Harry replied. “But we can talk about it after coffee.” He kissed Draco again, then reached for his hand. He intertwined their fingers then moved the back of Draco’s hand downwards until it was pressed against Harry’s now aching cock. Draco really was too sexy for his own good. “Maybe after this?” he added with a wink.

He felt Draco’s body tense. “Oh really?” he drawled, releasing his hand from Harry’s and instead gripping both of their cocks in his fist. He held his hand still, but Harry moaned in anticipation. 

“Oh baby, look how needy you are already.” Draco breathed. He kissed Harry again, harder this time, running his tongue across the seam of Harry’s lips as he pushed his hips forward, once. The soft slide of his cock against Harry’s felt incredible, but it was over too quickly. “Were you thinking about this before I woke up?” Draco questioned.

Harry hummed. He hadn’t been, at least he didn’t think he had been, but now with their cocks pressed together he couldn’t be sure of anything. 

“Did I not give you enough last night?” Draco bit Harry’s earlobe. “Was having your arse plugged then fucked not enough?” He breathed over the shell and Harry whimpered. “I bet you’re still nice and open for me aren’t you?”

Harry nodded into Draco’s shoulder and he heard Draco whisper “Merlin” as if he too couldn’t quite believe they’d ended up like this.

They didn’t talk after that. He felt Draco’s lubed fingers circling his rim before two of them pushed inside with ease. He was still sore, but the steady press against his prostate distracted him from the sting. Then Draco was rolling him onto his back and pushing inside. It felt overwhelming, simultaneously too much, and not nearly enough. They stayed like that for a long time, torsos pressed together, only the sound of each other’s breathing breaking the silence. Harry stared into Draco’s grey eyes and Draco stared back. He felt entirely consumed by this man, and for the first time in his life, that didn’t feel scared by that. Then Draco was smoothing Harry’s hair off of his forward and quirking his eyebrow, seeking permission. Harry nodded and then finally Draco was moving. 

It hurt, but it felt incredible. Slow, shallow thrusts gently rocked their bodies together and Harry felt the first tendrils of pleasure twist their way through his body. No doubt conscious of their activities the previous evening Draco kept the place torturously slow, but it felt right. Snow continued to fall outside the window, but in Harry’s bed they were oblivious, rocking against each other, gasps and kisses their only communication.

“Merlin Harry, I’m going to come.” Draco choked out above him. “Are you close?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but I want to watch you.” Harry was delighted to see that he’d made Draco blush. He felt Draco’s rhythm stutter and Harry kept his eyes focused on Draco’s face as he watched him close his eyes and groan. Harry thought he looked beautiful.

“You’re beautiful.” Harry told him.

Draco smiled. “Want to finish in my mouth?”

“Merlin yes.” Harry replied, eyes closing in anticipation.

He felt Draco duck under the covers, moving down his body, then suddenly his cock was enveloped in Draco’s warm wet mouth. Draco ran his hands up and down Harry’s thighs, over the inside his knees, but Harry was grateful he steered clear of his sensitive arsehole.

It wasn’t long before Draco’s talented tongue had him right on the edge, and it felt like Harry’s orgasm was inevitable when Draco next took him deep into his mouth. Harry sighed in satisfaction as the pleasure crested. He really couldn’t think of a better way to start the day.

\---

“When you offered me coffee Potter, I rather expected you to have the means to deliver.” Draco asked as they wandered into the kitchen later that morning. To the untrained ear his question sounded pointed, rude even, but Harry could tell he was joking. He was getting better at differentiating Draco’s tones.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a coffee machine anymore.”

“Where are your priorities?” Draco looked mortally offended by the idea that someone could put off replacing their only source of caffeine.

“I’ve been busy?” Harry tried. 

Draco looked him up and down and Harry felt himself blush. “Quite.” Draco grinned. “Well you’ll have to take me out then.” Draco suggested, pouting.

Harry coughed. Maybe this was his chance? “About that.” It came out much more seriously than he’d been anticipating. Draco’s smile faded slightly.

“Yes?” He replied cautiously.

“If we go out-” Harry started, then he took a breath. “If we go out, people might see us.” Merlin this was nerve wracking.

“That does tend to happen when one is outside in central London.” Draco deadpanned.

“I mean-” Harry fumbled. “Would that be okay?”

“Us going outside?” Draco replied and Harry wondered whether he was being deliberately obtuse.

“Us, umm, being seen together.” Harry corrected.

“I do believe we already have been seen together.” Draco stated. “Or did this morning’s activities affect your memory?” He leaned back against the counter and Harry envied the casualness with which he held himself.

“I mean, I don’t usually get seen with people I’m not-” he started.

“Spit it out Potter.”

Merlin this man was incorrigible. “I don’t want to be seen together if we’re not dating!” He burst out. “It takes weeks for _The Prophet_ to shut up any time I go out, and this will only make it worse.” Draco remained silent. “Merlin, not that I wouldn’t be seen with you, just, I thought I’d, Merlin, I wanted to check-”

“Harry.” Draco interrupted. 

Harry took a deep breath and looked at Draco. “Yes?”

“Are you asking me out?” 

“Well-” Harry started. “We’ve kind of already been out, I mean, yesterday was out. But yes, I wanted to check in with you, whether you thought this might be going somewhere.” He looked up hopefully. “I’ve had a good time over the last few weeks, I think, I think we’re good together.” 

Draco was smiling now, but he hadn’t replied.

“Say something?” Harry asked desperately.

“I thought I’d see how long you’d go for.” Draco teased.

“Merlin can you be serious for just one second!” 

Draco walked over and pulled Harry close by his belt loops. “I am being serious.” he said quietly, then he was leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips. “Hey, relax.” he said, running his hands up and down the outside of Harry’s arms. “Why don’t we go to Diagon for coffee?” he asked.

“We’ll be seen for sure.” Harry replied.

“I know.” Draco smiled.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked hopefully.

“I’m sure.” Draco kissed him again. “Surprising as it was to get to this point, I think we’re good together too.” He let go of Harry. “Now go and get your coat, I refuse to go another minute without caffeine.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this note, thank you so much for making it to the last chapter! I really hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. To those of you who started reading on December 1 - I'm so sorry it took so long to finish! I've learned a lot from posting a story chapter by chapter, and one of the best lessons was how amazing it is to receive kudos and comment notifications along the way. I've really enjoyed working on a longer story, and I definitely see myself publishing more in the future!

**PROMPT: UPSIDE DOWN SANTA MUG**

"Ron, what the hell is is that?" Harry asked pointing at the mug on the Burrow’s kitchen countertop. 

"Bottom's up!" Ron said loudly, handing the mulled wine over. Harry felt himself blushing. The mug was the shape of Santa Claus, except the figure was upside down, as if doing a handstand, and… filled with liquid, Harry supposed. But Ron's words combined with waggling ginger eyebrows assured Harry that his friend had selected the mug intentionally. 

"Ron there are children everywhere!" Harry whispered. Christmas day at the Burrow was always a loud affair, and in recent years the number of children had begun to rival the number of adults.

"I didn't take you for a prude. Did Malfoy not spend half of yesterday fu-"

"Thank you." Harry interrupted. "If you could just not bring this up in front of your family." While there was no one else in the kitchen currently, a moment alone in this house was a rare thing.

"Your family too." Ron shot back. "Anyway, I heard you two were seen together in Diagon yesterday, and so far today I haven't seen you sit down once." Ron's eyes were twinkling with mirth. "Was the git really that good?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you please stop." It was embarrassing enough to talk about this, let alone when Ron was very much on the money. Draco had insisted on taking him home and fucking him through the mattress after their public debut. That man had a possessive streak a mile wide and Harry’s body was definitely still feeling the consequences. 

"I bet that's not what you were saying yesterday." Ron cackled.

"Merlin, Ron, enough." Harry pleaded before they were interrupted. As if on queue Harry heard the sound of footsteps and was relieved to see Hermione enter the room.

"Harry, you're blushing. What's going on in here?" She asked, levitating a ladle of mulled wine into her own mug. 

"Your husband is bullying me." Harry complained. "Make him stop."

"I'm not!" Ron insisted. "I was congratulating him on his love life." He added innocently.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "A likely story." She turned to Harry. "While I suspect that my husband is stretching the truth, I did actually want to congratulate you. Luna mentioned that you and Draco were spotted getting coffee yesterday. She also mentioned the likelihood of a rather racy kiss making onto the front page of every news outlet as soon as the holidays are over."

Harry sighed. "I suppose I should be glad _The Prophet_ doesn't run on Christmas Day."

"Quite." Hermione nodded. "Although it doesn't sound like you were avoiding them. Does this mean you're official?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. His friends knew almost everything about him, Ron had literally walked in on him and Draco a few days back, but something about the situation made him feel awkward. Draco wasn't simply a new squeeze, this was real. He didn't think he'd been in this situation before.

"Hermione look at him!" Ron exclaimed. "He really likes him."

"Shush Ron." She turned to Harry. "I'm really happy for you." She said sincerely, and then suddenly Harry felt himself gathered up into a heartfelt hug. She kissed his cheek affectionately and looked into his eyes. "I'm really proud of you Harry."

"Hermione stop it!" Harry pushed her playfully. She really was such a mum now.

"I won't." She countered, smiling. "Not a month ago we were in that cafe and I have to admit that at the time I was worried about you. You quit your job so suddenly, you were moping over Stefano."

"Wow Stefano feels like ages ago." Ron interjected.

"Ron." Hermione chastised. She turned back to Harry. "But look at you now." It was almost like she was sizing him up. He knew better than to interrupt her. "You've got a man in your life, you've got a job offer.” She took a sip of her wine. “Have you written to McGonagall yet?”

“I thought you were complimenting me for actually taking the time to think about my life, but now I see it was a ruse to grill me about work.” Harry teased.

“Yeh it’s Christmas babe, give the man a break. Plus he’s with Draco now, the amount that man must pull in for sponsorship deals alone. Harry, you could be a house husband!”

“Ron.” Hermione looked visibly put out by the change in tone.

“Look, Hermione.” Harry soothed. “I haven’t written to her back, but I will. I’ve got a few other ideas. I wanted to speak to Bill first about wards later actually.”

“Okay I’ll drop it. But I’m really glad you’re thinking about it carefully.”

“Plus it’s Christmas Hermione. Give him a break from planning. He’ll no doubt be back over ours tomorrow, probably having a crisis in the living room once _The Prophet_ prints that picture of him necking Malfoy tomorrow.”

Harry sighed. Ron was probably right. Tomorrow meant publicity, it meant starting to make career decisions, it meant getting his life on track. But today, well today it was Christmas, and the only things that mattered were family, festivities, and definitely Molly’s roast potatoes. He had his friends by his side, an absolutely filthy note from Draco in his pocket detailing all of the things he had planned for when they saw each other tomorrow, and all the time in the world to think about what the following year might bring.


End file.
